"I was amazed. I was standing outside myself looking at the insides of my own body. If breaking my fingers the first time had been a revelation, this was a religious experience, except that instead of looking inside and finding that I had a soul and that Jesus loved me, I looked inside and saw machinery.
It was like discovering I was a robot."
Beautifully written. It sounds like you've made it to the other side of this trauma ❤️
Considering all that your hand and YOU have been through, I think you have a very fine hand. My Uncle Bob had part of his arm removed elbow down and he had been a dancer, a circus performer etc. His artificial arm lived with the ghost of his old arm and hand. My grandmother had her left leg cut off from below the knee and walked with a very heavy prothesis ... but she and my uncle often danced together to some old scratchy records and they moved like on clouds. Our bodies are so wise and learn early to "compensate " these sad loss's. You're so lucky to still have that beautiful hand and all the lessons that came with the pain. Such a nice drawing, Chris!
Thanks Sally. I think I’d like to interview both those relatives and get their stories on paper!
"I was amazed. I was standing outside myself looking at the insides of my own body. If breaking my fingers the first time had been a revelation, this was a religious experience, except that instead of looking inside and finding that I had a soul and that Jesus loved me, I looked inside and saw machinery.
It was like discovering I was a robot."
Beautifully written. It sounds like you've made it to the other side of this trauma ❤️
Wow! I don't remember this happening to you @ that small Xian college! As always... beautifully written.
Considering all that your hand and YOU have been through, I think you have a very fine hand. My Uncle Bob had part of his arm removed elbow down and he had been a dancer, a circus performer etc. His artificial arm lived with the ghost of his old arm and hand. My grandmother had her left leg cut off from below the knee and walked with a very heavy prothesis ... but she and my uncle often danced together to some old scratchy records and they moved like on clouds. Our bodies are so wise and learn early to "compensate " these sad loss's. You're so lucky to still have that beautiful hand and all the lessons that came with the pain. Such a nice drawing, Chris!