The dirty hand

Date : Categories : EntertainmentParentingUnusual

Our hands tell us

Dirty hands? The left hand has a bad reputation. And because it’s resting on paper, it’s often dirty. Who’s the chicken or the egg?

I’m fascinated by hands. They always have something to say.

Fist, palm, grip, grasp, paw, hook, duke…

Pianist’s hands or a conglomeration of sausages, hands are as much our calling card as our family tree. Like a posthumous postcard, we find certain gestures of a parent who has passed away in the hands of the youngest child, who never knew him or her.

I love my daughter’s delicate hands, even when she’s doing those awful manicures;
I love my son’s endless hands, despite his nails still in mourning;
I love my son’s endless hands, despite his nails still in mourning;
I love my grandmother’s wrinkled hands;
I love Alma’s sticky little hands with the dimples at the base of her fingers;
I love Ibrahim’s gigantic hands when he opens a jar of wonderful jam;
I love Annick’s flirty hands with their iridescent coral-colored nails to match her summer lipstick;
I love André’s hands, full of paint that he doesn’t even bother to remove;
I love my man’s hands studded with red stars;
I love Zahra’s hands with their red henna moons;
I love Mireille’s hands, deformed by arthritis…

In short, I’m having a bit of an obsession, aren’t I?

His Eminence Hypothenar

What I like most of all is to see the outside of the hand greyed out like a miner’s face. That little hill that drags across the paper and takes some of the ink or pencil with it. It’s called ‘hypothenar eminence’, yes, I’ve just learned that very dignified term for a simple hand bulge!

A few technicolor traces

Thinking I was Madame Irma looking at the future in the palm of my hand, I could see my children’s past day on the way home from school: pencil, felt-tip pen, paint, chalk, everything was there, allowing me to decipher their various activities between the little grooves, from the wrist to the tip of the little finger.

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It’s a mark of recognition, a sort of distinctive sign, a coded message that makes it possible to recognize a left-handed person in a crowd of right-handed people. Just as former gang members would recognize each other, the ephemeral tattoo left on the trailing hand leaves no doubt. We’re part of the same circle!

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