September 17, 2006




these hands

are man hands


not small

like mine


not fine

or delicate


these hands

take and give


like the bull

on sunday


like hands

hold babies


like oiled



like the

caress upon

my cheek





September 2002


Middle Photo: Found in Google Images, I could not trace the artist but used it for is wonderment.

Top Photo : Loving Hands
Artist: Christin Ellis

Bottom Photo: Poor Man

Artist: Matthew Huron


Matthew Huran is the light in the dark, the glow in the shadow, the whimsy of life, like the coyote trickster in various Indian (Native American Indian) cosmologies. Mesmerized, comforting, discomforting, giggly and down right inviting. The images could strike us as odd except that we are too busy participating in them. Take a wanding whimsy.


My hands are small. One lover loved my hands the most, I was never sure why but then, I was not her. I am a large woman who can carry herself because I live in my body. My hands have looked old since I was in my 20’s, this is a funky phenomena in my life. When I married Don, my ex-husband, I realized how different our hands were. I was amazed by the contrast. I started noticing men’s hands and how varied they were but especially those in contrast to my own. (Next: My aesthetic attachment to men’s arms out pickup truck windows. Yea.)


To hands and light.



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