Sometimes my digital glue is clear, unadorned by the residues of the project which brought us together. Sometimes, there's a fabulous combination, like last week when my palms and finger pads were covered in yellow micro-glitter. Sometimes it looks as though I've been playing in the chimney (CA + ebony dust).
Every now and then I see people with nice, clean, soft, shapely hands, and I think ... I should have that. I should have delicate fingers and groomed nails and accessories like rings and nail polish and ... uh ... intact skin.
But then I remember how these hands know how to do stuff a lot of other hands don't. They're brave, they're clever, they're not afraid of things. They're willing to go places a lot of other hands can't or won't. Further, I wonder if I even know (much less socialize with) anyone who'd think less of me because my hands are shop worn.
All this equanimity may have been bought with CA-based brain damage, I don't know. But I sure prefer it to points in my life where I was more concerned about what someone else thought of my surface than my interior condition.
In other news, check the photo feed for stuff done with inlay, ebony, glitter, desert ironwood, coral, and all kinds of things involving brass tubes glued inside holes drilled in pieces of wood. (Hint: Most of these things are pens.)