Here's a little shift for you--a random FB post led for Indy editor Matt Kettmann to ask me to expand that into an essay for the "My Life" column. So, here's one part of my life:
The world can get alien even before the end of your arms. Let’s say you’ve been standing and talking to one person long enough that you suddenly get hyper aware about what to do with your hands, appendages suddenly useless and greater than life-size. Do you ease them into pockets? Jut them onto hips? Latch the left hand on upper right arm? Knead fingers in front of you like you’re hiding something? Don’t tell me you haven’t had that moment.
Want to read the rest then do so at the Independent's site.
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