Next time we meet, let us take a handfie
When the security of macro-worlds collapses, the value of inner resources becomes more apparent. During the global Covid-19 pandemic, I have found myself tapping into my inner self more than usual. My big source of inner strength is the memory of my grandfather.
My grandfather, or “starenký”, as I used to call him, has given me the gift of experiencing what some describe as unconditional love. The indescribable warm feeling that floods your body when you know that someone loves you and does not expect anything in return. That sense of belonging and feeling sheltered. I remember the moments that made me feel that way…like hazy film-scenes those moments come back to me now and then. Photos concretize those scenes. A photo I am particularly fond of is this one.
Look how happy I am in my grandfather’s arms. Look how coordinated our gestures are. Look at the one Birthday candle, one raised finger and one o’clock at my grandfather’s watch. And look at his hands. His generous inviting hands. I sometimes struggle to recall starenký’s face but I do recall his hands. My grandfather’s hands defeated dragons and carried princesses to blue palaces. His hands dried my tears and clapped at my first piano performance. His hands made the most delicious “rezance” (noodles) and offered comfort to the patients he worked with in the local hospital. I wish I had more photos of starenky’s hands.
Why is it that we take so many photos of our faces and not of our hands? Face-time, face-book and now personalized and colourful face coverings. The disproportionate focus on face in our society is misplaced. Hands too are essential for communication and for signalling who we are. In my academic blog I argue for developing social and technological solutions that do not foreground the human face. I suggest that face-free interaction could be a step towards a more inclusive, future-proof society. In my work I study children’s hands as a motor instrument used to accomplish fine motor tasks, with standardized assessments of haptic identification and tactile discrimination. That language does not belong to poetry. In poetry, I am interested in how hands connect us to each other, in the material stories and histories they tell about each individual.
In Andratalia, Katie complains about everyone’s focus on pretty faces and cover magazine lifestyles. When she meets Philippa, she is fascinated with her hands: ‘I watch the big blade reflecting her small hands, there is some soil beneath her fingernails. She controls the knife, then puts it aside, crushes three cloves of garlic. I admire how quickly she switches tasks, how she uses her hands, how in small movements she can release scents, squeeze pomelos, crochet the white tablecloth, how her hands remember all these details.’
Like Katie, I am fascinated by hands that have lived rich lives. Such lives take time to develop. Children’s development of coordinated touch does not happen overnight. Gradually, and most often through mistakes and failures, children learn to anticipate the weight of objects and adjust their grip force. Toddlers are so proud when they manage to carry their toys without dropping them. Adults often demonize children’s use of technologies but when used well, touchscreens can help children’s mastering of small finger and hand movements.
Human faces project and reflect feelings but human hands can transmit thoughts to each other. My hands can type this blog, create a trace that you can read. My hands can play a piano song, my hands can bake a carrot cake for a children’s street party, my hands can create miniature bouquets. I am proud of my hands and I hope you are of yours too. Give them some special treatment in these challenging, constantly-wash-your-hands-times.
Look closely at the creases in your palms, remember the waters they absorbed and think of the mounts and plains your hands are still to travel. When the world seems to be tearing apart, try this: place your right hand on your belly and hold with your left hand the person you trust, or an object, or an animal, that you love. Breathe in. Repeat. Let your hands solidify the space between you and the world. Breathe in. Repeat. You have two hands so that you can hold onto others while holding onto your inner core.
