The History of The Handshake

*found image

I always dream of people leaving. Last night it was Orlando Bloom. Wierd.

Not much new going on over here. A tornado twisted up my sweet home town St. Louis, tearing down trees and walls and roofs on its way through. It’s wild that the weather can kill a man. Sometimes it seems so soft and harmless. So inviting and light blue. Tricky.

I only recently realized that people always shake with their right hands. The most common dominant hand - and the one most often used to wield a weapon - this gesture is a universally understood announcement that you are unarmed. I am happy to be here. I did not come to cause you harm. Greetings, thank you and Goodbye. So much can be said with that six second slap.

What is everybody working on? The older I get, the more I believe in the boundless affirmation of making things. Do you? There’s rarely a day that goes by where I don’t give some sort of thanks to some sort of God for the gift of my words and my artwork. For whatever reason I was able to find my own voice early and I have always tried to use it wisely. Last week I sent a proposal for a writing class to the Arts & Culture office at the city and I would love - if I’m selected - to create a community workshop space where people can courageously poke around for a while at their own poetry and prose. We will see.

I’ve run out of my own words, but I will borrow from the brilliant poet Jane Kenyon to close:

Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books. Have good sentences in your ears. Be yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take your phone off the hook. Work regular hours.

Here we go,

Anne