I have big hands. They show their age. The thumbs curl back. Someone once told me they look like Italian hands and I had a flashback to being with Grandma Genetti, who wasn’t Italian, but Tyrolean, which is close. I do not hide my hands. They are faithful, typing at the speed of my active mind or drawing a near perfect circle in the days before the computer did that kind of thing for us. But most importantly, my hands are expressive. They help me speak. I am, after all, a communicator, whether it’s through graphic design, books, or speaking engagements.