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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )



Hands pushing through,
hands typing, hands as adept agents
of the worker, the be-er, the doer.

How much of the brain is devoted
to processing signalling for the hands?
A handsome amount, I’m sure.

Can the hands send signals
back to the brain to tell it what to do, too?

Can the brain be hands searching
& working like the interplay of
interdependent co-arising?

What if hands are
butterflies that ameliorate
the hurricanes of thought
our mindscape?

Such that the weather
of what we endure is made
gentler by the process of the
hands, mindful hands

Such that when
fierce wind would whirl
without engagement
but only destruction,
the tip and tangent of this wildness
would be felt by hands,
felt and recognized
and turned just so

Such that the
turning just so
tickles the fierceness
tugs the rein of
this animal,
employs it,
transforms it

A conductor
signalling an

A potter
making a pot

is the key meme

into utility

~ Lady

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