In the Louis L'amour book "The Californio's" there is a passage where the main character is describing how he once came across some old adobe ruins and in those ruins he found a stone imprinted with an ancient hand print. The character begins to wonder about that hand print and who made it. What was he like? What were his dislikes? What were his fears? What would he consider his accomplishments? Was he loved? Respected? Honored? Just who was the man that made that hand print and what was his world like? Did he make the hand print on purpose for those to come eons down the road of time? Was it his way of saying "I was here!" "I made a difference!" "I am important!" "Do not forget me!" Was it his way of becoming immortal?
The imagery from that passage has stuck with me ever since I first read it years ago. We all want to be remembered by somebody and we all try to find our own way to be remembered that satisfies us. For some it is enough to be remembered by family, others desire notoriety or a place in history books, still others desire fame or a lasting image on celluloid. We all want to find our own way to leave our "hand prints."
While the internet and web logs can be fleeting and temporary, it is for me one way to say that "I was here." Maybe someone will copy something I say or post or maybe they will just remember it. If so then I will not be forgotten quickly and possibly something I will write will be copied, repeated and remembered through the eons ot time.
This then is my "Hand Print."
