On my cell phone in a cluttered storage room in an old warehouse, I wondered what I could offer my distraught friend to remind her of other ways of seeing things, the opposite of fear and sadness?
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I started thinking about using my hand as a notepad, as I did when I was a kid, and began noticing people with notes scrawled and scribbled on their hands. The manager of the local fish market had phone numbers running up the back of his hand in blue ball point. At the Bauhaus show…
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