Commentary: When my fingers stopped cooperating, I had to rethink making art
by Amy Goldman Koss, Los Angeles Times
Jul 31, 2019
3 minutes
My hands were such good sports for so many decades that I didn't even know they were unhappy until they quit working. At first I was affronted by their betrayal. But in spite of my indignation, the chopsticks rattled to the floor, the coffee cup smashed. Sleeping in any position but corpse-at-a-viewing woke me with sizzling pain.
I feel a little sheepish, remembering all I'd demanded of my hands. Filling sketch pads and walls with intricate drawings, gripping a hair-thin pen,
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