«I see in people little details, so specific to each person, that move me, and that I miss and will always miss. You can never replace anyone, because everyone is made of beautiful and specific details.»
-from the film Before Sunrise
Some people look at your shoes, they say they reveal a lot about you. I, on the other hand, look at my hands.
Some hands are soft. Others are dry and rough. Thin, long. Wide, short. I like to watch them move. Light ones that hide. Or if they have more character, more determination.
Mine are bony, thin, medium fingers, almost long. Pale. Soft but dry. They tend to move a lot, with gentleness and grace. They turn red in the cold. Always with cuts. And cold in general.
Some I have met I remember as lukewarm. Others restless or indecisive. Others more daring, more courageous. But the ones that move me the most are the ones that hold you tight, the ones that hold you as if they never want to let you go.
I remember once when an ex-boyfriend licked my fingers on the table at a wedding to clean off the bad polish I had just applied in the bathroom. It looked like a 6-year-old's nail polish. It certainly took away all my glamour and that seemed like the best solution.
I was once a hand model. They say it's a good modeling career because of the little competition. I never took it seriously but I confess I thought about it. Besides for that I would have to convince my domestic kitty to give up the little tiger that lives inside her. She tends to lick and scratch them whenever she feels like it. And it's a joy. I faithfully give them to her and let myself be loved. I can hardly give up this unchanging routine of years.
If someone wanted to read me through my hands it would be easy. They are so transparent that they could reveal my darkest secrets. This is not so convenient but that's the way it is.
Photography by Martin Canova
