klauzer jessica a on tue 19 jan 99
During a discussion among friends last night, I unwittingly came across a
previously hidden phobia of mine. Making such a discovery of this fear
seemed to reveal a certain basic reality of my existence, for which I am
forever grateful.
We were talking around the dinner table and the discussion somehow
levitated toward people who choose never to cut their hair or nails and so
have a gnarly mass of nail encircling their fingers and hands. I found
myself almost panicky upon considering this as my own situation. So much
of what I do revolves around the ability of my hands to carry out the will
of my mind. It was mentioned that one man with these long nails made his
living as a typist. After so many years, he must have been completely
comfortable with his fingers as they were and adapted his movements so
that his fingers could move as agile, autonomous units with quickness
comparable to trimmed fingers. He could type over 60 wpm, in case you were
wondering. :)
I don't know how I would be able to relate to the outside world if it
weren't for my hands. Perhaps I could rethink the ways in which I use my
hands to go along with any new configuration my hands might take on. Or
maybe I would simply move to another pursuit in life, but I know that I
would miss sorely the feel of things in my hands. We all relate to the
outside world on many levels, but as artists who work in a medium which
pretty much requires that you interact with it in a tactile manner, I
would say that we have an extra level of dependence on and love for our
hands.
Just as I judge how much I like a piece by how upset I would be if it were
to break, I find that I would probably be completely crazy with grief if
my hands were to suddenly go missing.
Dan Tarro on thu 21 jan 99
On Tue, 19 Jan 1999 13:21:27 EST klauzer jessica a
writes:
>----------------------------Original
>message----------------------------
>During a discussion among friends last night, I unwittingly came
>across a
>previously hidden phobia of mine. Making such a discovery of this
>fear
>seemed to reveal a certain basic reality of my existence, for which I
>am
>forever grateful.
>
>We were talking around the dinner table and the discussion somehow
>levitated toward people who choose never to cut their hair or nails
>and so
>have a gnarly mass of nail encircling their fingers and hands. I
>found
>myself almost panicky upon considering this as my own situation. So
>much
>of what I do revolves around the ability of my hands to carry out the
>will
>of my mind. It was mentioned that one man with these long nails made
>his
>living as a typist. After so many years, he must have been
>completely
>comfortable with his fingers as they were and adapted his movements
>so
>that his fingers could move as agile, autonomous units with quickness
>comparable to trimmed fingers. He could type over 60 wpm, in case you
>were
>wondering. :)
>
>I don't know how I would be able to relate to the outside world if it
>weren't for my hands. Perhaps I could rethink the ways in which I use
>my
>hands to go along with any new configuration my hands might take on.
>Or
>maybe I would simply move to another pursuit in life, but I know that
>I
>would miss sorely the feel of things in my hands. We all relate to
>the
>outside world on many levels, but as artists who work in a medium
>which
>pretty much requires that you interact with it in a tactile manner, I
>would say that we have an extra level of dependence on and love for
>our
>hands.
>
>Just as I judge how much I like a piece by how upset I would be if it
>were
>to break, I find that I would probably be completely crazy with grief
>if
>my hands were to suddenly go missing.
>
Jessica,
This strikes very close to home for me. This last fall I was involved in
building my new studio. Everything was going as planned. When the time
came to place the trusses for the roof was the setback for me.( Keep in
mind that this was nothing new to me seeing that I use to make a living
in construction.) I did something stupid. It started to rain and I was
positioning trusses by myself, standing on them. The one kicked out from
under me and I found myself 11 feet down on a cement slab. My wrists took
the brunt of the fall, a broken rib and a screwed up knee. It has been
almost three months now and I am just now getting full movement back into
my wrists. The roof is finished but that is where it has been sitting.
Lots of time to rethink my work as a potter during this time. For many of
us who trust that we are being taken care of in all situations it does
help to foster a greater sense of faith. For others, anger and
hopelessness. For me, the former. Clay has always been important in my
life, but there are other, just as important, things that sometimes get
neglected because of my tendency to be so directed I see only clay. This
time out has been good for me in many ways.
DanDan Tarro
Oak Tree Stoneware
Ham Lake, Minnesota
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