Unafraid to be naked touching naked warmed inside the fulcrum of agency, being giant and never again made small. Kristina Jordan, California, USA | My work is an infant in my arms, a newborn constantly growing with my cradling. I give it life by nurturing it. My work grows,but surprises me as children do, as it does not age as my face and hands. Alexandra Newton Rios | This fused glass art fusion combines dad’s ashes, photos, last words and personal items. My late father inspires this work; hugging and laughing with him again would fill me with such joy and peace. Tina Marie Ferguson, Arizona, USA | would place it at midnight on the outdoor alter of a Japanese temple high in the mountains then pull the rope, awakening the gods and ask for their blessings. Mary McDermott | My work. 4 bodies. Walking, smiling, being, and developing beyond me. To touch what I’ve made is glorious. If they were words though… If they were words, they could live forever. Tamara Graham, Pennsylvania, USA | I would cradle it lovingly for it is the best of me. It springs from somewhere deep within, a core more sensitive than my outer self. I would like to be able to intertwine both selves. Joan Stevens, California, USA | My arms could not cradle the huge, gigantic force of freedom and love that lives in the words of my soul. It wraps itself around the Universe and changes the paths of my mind; morning, noon and night. Barbara L. Eikner, Oklahoma, USA | I want my work to be bold, rooted, and unapologetically alive—a touch that does not just land but lingers, does not just decorate but deepens, does not just reach but roots itself in the world. Saranya Francis, Bangalore, INDIA | I’d unlikely recognize my keyboard’s offspring. Once birthed, it is [theirs]. When I revisit my prose, I question everything. I would not touch a verb. Instead, I’d hope the visit inspired new words. Jen Schneider, Pennsylvania, USA | It feels more as if my work cradles me, rather than the opposite. It feels soft and silken to the touch, even the work that embeds pain or anger—somehow it is smoothed and softened as it takes form. Carol Grannick
