Series: Rei Tanaka | Part Twelve: "Hands"
Installment 12: "Hands"
The scent of the summer night breeze brings a myriad of memories, floating and fading, fading and then resurfacing. It's a special time. Especially on rainy
nights.
One of those memories is a hazy recollection from childhood: my father stroking my head, murmuring, "Good girl, good
girl."
His hands were so warm, possessing a gentle weight—a truly special touch.
Photos and text by Rei Tanaka
Whether it's the gentle patting, a massage, or simply holding hands, there's a sense of comfort when enveloped by hands. Is it because something special emanates from them? There are tales of artisans with "divine hands" who can discern texture down to the nanometer. It makes me wonder if our skin isn't covered in an invisible, fine-grit file; when I stroke my skin, light seems to dawn upon it, and I can't help but be entranced by that overwhelming sense of peace.
Every day, I gently touch my face with my hands to check my skin's condition. My palms and fingers miss no subtle imperfection. By touching my skin daily, I can sense its state—whether it's good or bad—through the feel conveyed to my fingertips. This allows me to choose the right skincare for the moment. Instead of using the same products every day, having multiple options—"for troubled skin" for sensitive or flushed complexions, and "for active use" for days when my skin is in good condition—leads to healthier skin and quicker resolution of issues.
At the end of each step in my skincare routine, I cup my face with my hands, patiently waiting for the beneficial ingredients to slowly penetrate.
Whether there's scientific evidence or not, I feel that cupping my face with my hands allows the warmth to help the skincare penetrate deeper into the skin. I also use my whole hands to cover my face as a final step in makeup application. This helps to eliminate any powdery finish and allows the makeup to meld with the skin. The gentle warmth brings a sense of comfort that calms the mind.
For skin that works so hard every day, let's cup it with our own hands, recall the feeling of my father's touch from childhood, and offer it a gentle, "Good girl, good girl."