She says “draw my hand 🖐”

and this simple action

for me, is High art—

the art of masters, becoming young again.

Our combined intelligence

simplified into the elegance of

a single line drawn,

contour: a line developing into a form

One day she will sit in an art class

and draw what she sees, without

looking at her paper.

Because of me.

her request: “draw my hand”

is helping me illustrate one of the most

creative gifts of her body

As a baby,

she learned her hands quickly.

she studied intently.

Her hands were her first friends

enabling her into positions, and grasping my

finger well after that reflex had gone.

her fingers articulating quickly,

her hand in mine—always wanting my hand. Brave. And still always wanting my hand.

“Mommy, mommy, draw my hand.”