Feet

I have very sensitive feet and I live in a usually cold climate, so I generally wear socks. Because of this, my feet are very pale and soft. They're like worms with sensitive skin and unseeing eyes.

But my feet are also very strong. They take me everywhere I go, which is a lot of places, really. I think that the hands belong to the mind--they're nimble, you use them to write and to be expressive, but the feet belong to the body. Where the body goes, the feet take it. And yet they look so sensitive.

At the last supper, Jesus washed his disciples' feet, which I imagine was both a very intimate and grimy thing to do, considering that they probably were wearing sandals rather than socks. Here is an important paradox--what is strongest about us is also what is most vulnerable, and that there is strange beauty in this. Like the production team putting on a play, the feet aren't meant for the limelight. But they're essential to the whole process.