Hands holding books. Hands pouring wine. Hands folding laundry. Hand grabbing someone’s face. Hand Holding hands. Little kid writing with a pencil, covering thumb. Person With Thumb: When I was little, I hated the thumb on my right hand because I had a wart there. So when I was learning to write, I learned how to do it while covering up my thumb where the wart was, and now I can’t write any other way. So the other day, I looked up how old you are when you first learned how to write. Four. four years old. I remember sitting in the classroom struggling so hard to write well because I held my pencil differently. In what to me at the time looked like this glaring, distorted grip. And I was so jealous of the other kids because I was like. Damn. I wish I had a normal thumb. So from the time I was four, I had this tiny thing that felt so big. Because things that now are so Nobody notices it. The way i write. Nobody. But I do and every time that i do. I remember how I felt that something was wrong with me. And sometimes. Most times, I still feel that way. Every time I write a love letter. Every time I sign a check. Every time I make a to-do list, or write in my calendar, or leave a passive-aggressive reminder for my roommates on the refrigerator. Taking notes during a meeting or class. Filling out a W-4, or making a drawing. When I was older, my parents took me to the doctor to cut it off me. But I still write covering my thumb, because I never learned any other way how. And that’s okay…. I don’t believe that. I’ve tried to learn how to write normally, and I can’t. I get this feeling like I’m sweating inside of my body, like underneath my skin in between my skin and my muscles. Like everyone can see it again. Maybe that’s anxiety. It’s probably anxiety. I kind of wish that it was still there because then it might make more sense, the feelings of it and then it will feel more real. I hope it goes away, and then I hope it never does because then if I stop writing like that, what happened to the four-year-old girl? Did she ever exist? Did that ever happen? Or is it just me now? Still feeling like something’s wrong with me. About the Artist Bella Cvengros is an actor, playwright, and independent artist based in New York City. A graduate of the University of Southern California’s BA theater program, she studied acting and playwriting. She has developed and performed new work at Playwrights Horizons and had a show of her’s produced at The Hollywood Fringe. Her plays explore themes of shame, memory, and intimacy through a lens of poetic realism and surreal imagery. Recent works include Baby Teeth, which will be presented and staged at IRT Theater this fall. Outside of theater, she enjoys practicing yoga and making pour-over coffee in the mornings.
Close up on Hands
little feel so big when you’re smaller.
