Of course, for Miss Evans of the swirling hand, we were not to pinch our fingers as we made our way across the page with the pen, but to have whole-hand-and-wrist free movement as we skated and pirouetted "on point."
But I would always look at my handwriting--the handwriting which to this day wreaks and which my students when I wrote them notes would beg me to translate--and look at Miss Evans's handwriting, and the heart would sink deeper into depression-admiration. Who could ever emulate--yet who could but be astonished and appreciative of--the "hand" of Miss Evans?
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