My hands, a love story

atoz-H (2)Day H in the Blogging from A to Z challenge. It’s all about my hands, as in “My hands, a love story”.

I have never been fond of the look of my hands. Short fingers, slightly chubby, very light skin. Not the ideal fingers for promotional photos to showcase rings. Not that this ever mattered or was an issue, it was more that I was…  indifferent to my hands.

At some point, during the jeweller training, there was a clear shift in how I perceived my own hands. I spent a great number of hours every week, learning to use different tools and techniques. I learned that my hands could do amazing things.

I was witnessing, closely, from the first row, the progress and performance of my hands. I could not care less what they looked like, they became my best friends. My hands and eyes came to work together, to practice, fine tune all the movements over and over again. They were with me intensely those years.

Dear hands, I still love you! I am sorry for those years in the past when I cared more about your looks. I am so grateful to have you with me.

I can not even think what my life would be like without you.

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11 thoughts on “My hands, a love story

    • Thanks! Let me tell you one thing my hands are not very good at: to put food on a plate in a nice way. There may be sauce stains and a mess of vegetables (and I won’t care much, because at that point I’m hungry and just want to eat, now!). My husband can put whatever food/snacks in such a nice way, with great care, and it looks so inviting. I envy you “food people” a bit there. Completely different hand skills.

      • I’m sure you can train your hands to plate food nicely – you have a creative brain … I think it’s because you’re not really interested. It’s not so much the hands .. as the eyes.

      • Thank you my darling for the compliment and I appologize for invading your public but private blog. My plating up skills are no where near your jewelry and writing skills

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