What are books without the hands?

 Without the hands, books are merely objects, lifeless without interaction. It’s the feeling, the intimacy, that transforms them — making each book an experience rather than just a thing. The connection develops as you hold the book, shaping a relationship that deepens over time. At first, you examine its exterior, drawn in by its form. But as you turn each page, feeling its texture and grain beneath your fingers, the book ceases to be just an object. It becomes a presence. This tangible, physical artefact begins to transcend its identity, blossoming into a spiritual relationship between two resonant beings. In those moments, the book and the reader — two vibrating carbon bodies — sync, resonating on the same level for however long this shared experience unfolds.

Through time and touch, by feeling its shape and contours, you start to see the book’s true essence. Each interaction leaves an imprint, each layer of experience and learning adding to the depth of this bond. The grooves and textures match and deepen, becoming richer every time your hands meet its form.

What do your hands know of intimacy?