Hands

Inside a cave in a narrow canyon near Tassajara

The vault of rock is painted with hands,

A multitude of hands in the twilight, a cloud of men’s palms, no more,

No other picture. There’s no one to say

Whether the brown shy quiet people who are dead intended

Religion or magic, or made their tracings

In the idleness of art; but over the division of years these careful

Signs-manual are now like a sealed message

Saying: “Look: we also were human; we had hands, not paws. All hail

You people with the cleverer hands, our supplanters

In the beautiful country; enjoy her a season, her beauty, and come down

And be supplanted; for you also are human.”

~Robinson Jeffers' "Hands"


These are my "tracings in the idleness of art."

I have always had a thing about hands. I remember being a little girl, maybe 4 or 5, and really examining my mother's hands up close. She had all these interesting lines and textures. I would hold my hand beside hers and wish mine weren't so smooth and bland.

I look at mine now next to my own daughter's and smile at the lines the years have left behind. I think they can stop now, though. There's just enough interesting lines and freckles these days. I really don't need any more, thank you very much.

Right now, I'm also obsessed with my fingernails, which are, for me, ginormously long. My fingernails and I have had an understanding, at least until lately. I would give them a little care, rarely cover them up with paint, and let them go until one broke, at which point it was generally agreed between me and my ten fingers that it was time for the nails to go back to their short stubiness for another go-round. I did keep them more in line when I was better about practicing the guitar, but this spring we've fallen back into the grow-out, one-breaks, cut-short pattern of old.

Now, whether it's the explosion of spring, my determination to drink more water, or some unknown in the elements, none of my ten fingers has kept its agreement to break a nail. A few weeks ago I noticed the lateness the arrival and now it's gone on so long I feel as though I have alien talon fingers.

Yes, I know, just cut them and be done with it.

But part of me is a little fascinated at how long they might actually go without breaking. No worries, I won't go Guinness World Records on you, and I'm not sure if I can hold out much longer, but I am holding off on the nail clippers, at least for today. Perhaps publicly outing them here will be enough to remind them of their tardy break. Or perhaps the excessive tapping I've been doing on any hard surface will do the trick. I'm starting to annoy myself, though. They've got until Sunday.


And for you palm readers out there, here's what mine "says":

A short life line, if strong and deep, shows great vitality in your life and the ability to overcome health problems. A doubled life line shows positive forces surrounding you.

The head line and life line are joined at the beginning, indicating a strong sense of mind that generally rules over your body. The head line swooping down towards the heel means you tend to be imaginative and creative. Double lines show strong mental abilities. The many crosses through the line indicate major decisions in your life.

A heart line beginning between your index and middle finer shows a slight disregard to the true meaning of love and its responsibilities, tending to easily give your heart away. The line is long and curved indicating a pleasant, romantic nature and great warmth in your actions, tending to give all of yourself to love, no matter the costs.

Now where's the fingernail reading when I need one? Oh, here it is, you are just a little odd, but people seem to love you for it. :)



...enjoy her a season, her beauty, and come down

And be supplanted; for you also are human.