Talking with my hands

I am so different from my husband. His words pour forth from his mouth with eloquence. I stumble over my words and feel my mind spinning as I try to formulate a sentence and get out what I really mean. I rarely talk in large groups because by the time I've managed to pull together the thread of what I want to say the moment has passed and the subject has changed. I've come to accept this about myself and pray for grace in difficult social situations. The way I like to talk is with my hands...not with gesticulations to punctuate the words flowing from my mouth, but with the things my hands can create. I like to write, fingers talking using the keyboard as the medium. I like to paint, the hues expressive across the canvas. I like to make music, hammers hitting strings, melody speaking to the heart. I like to cut, mold, carve, sketch, write my thoughts. I talk all the time, just not with my tongue.

My unfinished canvas.


Comments

Nessa said…
Kirsty, so sorry, but I'd forgotten how creative you are! That painting is Beautiful! And in a box, somewhere in storage, are the lovely cards you made me years ago when we were at school/college. You have such a gift :-) xx (By the way, I have never considered you in articulate, and we've known each other a Long time! x)
Nessa said…
It appears that the blog is challenging my grasp of the English language and deciding, of its own accord, to separate into two a word that should be as one. Hmm.

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