From Kirsten Ogden, who is the Reverie Queen:
"I love the work that Gretchen Henderson does. Her Gallerie Di Diformite located here is pretty amazing. Especially Exhibit H. In the text of the exhibit, Gretchen writes “This is a language of clasping; hence, to lose hands denotes loss of possession, custody, charge, authority, power, disposal, agency, instrumentality—putting into other
hands what wants to be held in your own”—
This got me thinking about hands– the destruction, the kindness, the healing–all of the simple things that hands do for us in our lives. Can you tell me the story of your year through the perspective of your hands?"
I am a voluptuary. Perhaps you are unfamiliar with that word: I was until a few years ago.
Here is a definition:
Voluptuary: a person whose chief interests are luxury and the gratification of sensual appetites
That sounds almost negative – and luxury, again, I would say luxury in this case does not necessarily mean driving a Rolls Royce convertible with the top down and the AC blasting or having a different fur coat for every day of the year. It is more like luxuriating in the way a bubble bath feels against your skin, how it smells, and how the wetness and bubbles and whatever aroma fills the bathroom makes a voluptuary feel.
Here it is used in a sentence fragment:
“an adventurous voluptuary, angling in all streams for variety of pleasures" (Thomas De Quincey).
Yes, this sounds like me.
This year my hands sustained me.
I repeated my usual lament about my “manly” hands, but they have continued to serve me in communicating with my soul via touch.
Just a few instances:
January via My Hands
I remember preparing for the first art show I ever curated, Visible Poetics. I was creating art in addition to curating so the first week in January meant wet, slightly slimey hands. Constantly paint-covered hands and loving every moment of it hands. We had to repaint the gallery because I couldn’t hang the art I was responsible for on such pockmarked walls.
As we frequently find in Bakersfield in Winter, my hands held fog. Morning after morning and into the afternoon: fog. Throwing food to hungry ducks at Hart Park, I feel the seeds and nuts as they leave my hand.
January ended with my birthday: I went on a solo soul retreat. It was such an important day, spent at a State Park called Montana del Oro in San Luis Obispo county. It is a park on the ocean, close to Morro Bay. I held my pencil in my hand, I inspected rocks and shells and sand. I rested on enormous boulders. I felt slightly embarrassed asking strangers to take photos of me so I could fully document my day. I passed my camera from my hand to theirs.
I wasn’t disappointed. My face rested in my hands as I ate a fancy meal, solo, looking out at the sunset while a Sea Lion danced below me.
May, 2011 Via My Hands
This is the month I began my sabbatical from theater. I remember lots of hugs that month in the beginning. We did a reprise of Dear Harvey, which always creates a lot of hugs for me. My hands felt my friends back as I sobbed, on stage, real tears as I looked at photos of the AIDS quilt. As the year wore on, my hands felt lots and lots of no hugs as I retreated from other people, didn’t want to be close to anyone, would rather hide than hang out. I think my hands were telling me something.
October, 2011 Via My Hands
This was my month of loss and rebirth. The hugs were back, in full force, and the love was received and given back. My hands worked, a lot. Cleaning and scraping and scrubbing. They loved, a lot: hugging and cuddling and stroking of faces. Incredibly intense love making. During my visit to Northampton I “held hands” with the statues of Sojourner Truth and Annie Sullivan, two women in history I adore. I was numb in my hands and my heart for this entire month. I’m coming out of it now, perhaps due in part to Reverbing.
December, 2011 Via My Hands:
I sewed lacy curtains for my living room and dining room in December. I painted, walls this time rather than art. My hands hurt from holding the roller so tightly. I hugged again, more, again. My hands love to spread out on the back of the person I am hugging.
In 2012, my hands want to explore more. My hands want to feel creativity springing from them on the keyboard as well as more art for my “Women’s Sphere” project. Without planning it, I took a respite from it in December. The holidays will do that! I also want my hands to spend more time in active love-showing. You know, reaching out to touch people, not just hugging but side hugs and hand upon hand hugs. I want to feel more flowers, more leaves, more crunchy things. I want to return to the beach and mountains and y’know, some cold snow would make my hands very happy.
I am Julie Jordan Scott ~ and this is one of my Reverb11 posts. This year, the Reverb Community is taking an individualized approach to this life changing initiative. I am answering several prompts a day in short snippets during either a 30 minute or 60 minute wordsprint. I look forward to reading other Reverb11ers writing & if you are unfamiliar, just use the prompt and use the #reverb11 hashtag on twitter. You'll have a blast!
Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot
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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott
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