Hands Across the Water

Just random black and whites that have caught my eye. This one above, just this morning, while preparing a lecture. It's of Aldous Huxley and DH Lawrence and it makes me wonder at the lankiness of these two writers, how better-dressed people used to be, and yet how much more malnourished. The length of their arms alone, the soft-heavy weighted-ness of their hands.

'Why should I look at my hand, as it so cleverly writes these words, and decide that it is a mere nothing compared to the mind that directs it? Is there really any huge difference between my hand and my brain? Or my mind? My hand is alive, it flickers with a life of its own…Why should I imagine that there is a me which is more me than my hand is? Since my hand is absolutely alive, me alive.' DH Lawrence in his essay 'Why the Novel Matters.'