Pretty much everyone has a favorite – there’s the camp that prefers asses (and, yes, that would include Kyle,) the breast camp (wow, wouldn’t that be the most AWESOME summer camp?) and those that love eyes or feet or bellies. For me, it’s never been breasts or asses or legs or backs…as gorgeous as they are, they can’t hold a candle to hands.
Hands are the architects of a life – the way we reach out to comfort, or grab onto to steady ourselves. They write and type and draw and caress, bridging the distance between two people. They are strong and fierce sometimes, and other times, gentle and delicate.
So it should come as no surprise that I spend a lot of time photographing the way people touch. My favorite is pictures of hands clasped together – in strength, in solidarity, in love.
Here are a few of the pictures I caught while we were marching through San Francisco last month. I owe enormous thanks to the women marching behind me who were so patient when I would suddenly slow to capture a shot…over and over throughout the march. (I imagine it got a bit annoying, but generously, no one said a word.) And big adoring thank yous to the women who walked, danced, strutted and marched together with such fierce love and joy.
What a beautiful night. Looking at these again gives me shivers in the most wonderful ways.
For more pictures of the Dyke March, head on over to the official site.
(Ok, yeah, it’s a bit thrilling that they linked to my set. Whoo hoo!)
Mmmm ok yeah, I love asses.. but hands, where would I be without them? That is a great set of pictures. It’s fun to speculate on what’s going on, who the people are, what they’re relationships are like.. just by looking at the way they hold hands.
Also, thanks for being behind them so that there are also so many behinds to look at
Very cool that you’re getting links into this site for your pictures, you create a wonderful collection.
Thank you, my love.