This may sound strange, but sometimes I look at my hands and nearly do a double take. My hands are becoming my mother’s hands, or at least my childhood memory of them. Cutting bread into fours for Annie, pulling on the girls’ hats and mitts, stirring the soup…they actually look exactly like my mom’s.
Anyone else ever see startling familial resemblances in places other than the face?
This is a portrait of my Grandma’s hands. It is a fresh take on portraiture in that it doesn’t include her face, and yet for those who know her it’s undeniable. Without a doubt, these digits have but one sole owner! Hands can be as unique as faces, and they tell many stories. In this case we included some props to help the story along, but really you could have as powerful and interesting a portrait without the needle and thread.