 HANDS OF X Orderly rows of small square tiles sit in slots on a dark table resembling piano keys in an earth tone palette. I like the colour, I like the sort of neutrality of it. It looks quite warm as well. And there's an unthreateningness about wood that certainly I feel is much more fitting to who I think I am and what I would like to wear and the perception that I would like to give out to people. The unseen speaker leans on the table with both hands, one of which is clad in a brown leather glove. There's something about skin tone. A white man with a black prosthetic hand considers several tiles. It's obviously, or maybe it's not obviously, but that seems to be suggested in the colour selection. And you can probably tell I've never really been that fussed on matching skin tones. I love this acetate. A woman with digitless hands considers a selection of tiles. I love the interesting pattern through it. Wooden hand shapes are set out. I think the leather that goes best with it is quite a nice bright one. And I like this wood the best out of a lot. It's the darkest and I just like it. And I think that that's a really nice texture of leather where the creases and the cracks and things are more obvious to me. When have I ever thought this arm was my nuttoe? Never, ever, ever have I ever thought this is part of me? It's something I put on that can get stick. I can turn the driving wheel. I can clean my golf club on the side of it. It's never been part of me. Aesthetics are important. Point to anything in the non-natural world. It's been designed. It's been thought about. It has been important. A small box adorned with three different tiles is closed with a lid that reads, Hands of X. For most prosthetic users, builders, readers, whatever. The cosmetic part is small and it shouldn't be.