Hands

I think a person's hands say a lot about them, and so I guess I spend a lot of time looking at people's hands.

Calluses tell how you hold a pen, if you write a lot, or if you play a stringed instrument. Some people have manicures; others may have chipped nails or well maintained ones. Girls sometimes repaint their nails a lot, or have no paint at all. And a lot of people bite their nails or the skin around there.

Hands are our mediator to do things. Almost everything we do is through our hands, and therefore they may be covered in ink, or cut, or what have you. Some people are able to shuffle cards elegantly and easily while others stumble awkwardly over them, and others still tap their nails or the pads of their fingers against tabletops in an idle moment.

I guess today my hands were entirely stained purple and green, and the ink soaked into the spots I bite on my fingers. A lot of crevices were highlighted today in the afternoon sun, my nails were contaminated with dye, and it surprised me how much it both bothered and delighted me.

And further still, a person's touch is mostly through their hands. Some are entirely gentle, while others convey their nervousness in their touch. Comfort and personality are here, too.

And every person has different hands. It's a unique trait, and for some reason it entirely fascinates me in a nearly indescribable way.