My Mother often talks about the beauty of hands, how unique they are and difficult to draw from an artistic perspective.  My Dad’s brother, Uncle Phil, was a medical artist living in a suburb of NYC.  I recall seeing pictures he illustrated of hands and how each picture depicted the beauty of a human hand despite the position it was in.  One hand was holding an egg embraced within the curve of a palm as it appeared almost suspended in time over the rim of a bowl ready to be cracked. 

A couple of years ago, I painted a picture of my Mom from a photograph I took of her sipping hot chocolat at a cafe in Paris.   Her left hand gently holding the cafe cup as her slender fingers surrounded the handle bringing the delicious drink to her sweet lips.  The picture is hanging in her bedroom currently.

~Monica Sleap 4/25/10

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