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.”