ME HAND

 The hands are a place, our nest, our story. 

The hand before having a meaning is a meaning, a container that of time in time can take on varied appearances:  An infinite territory of images, emotions, feelings, senses, actions. 

To the inside of its perimeter they stratify themselves the gestures, the experience, the wisdom, the passion. 

The hands are the appendices of the body, their means the thought becomes objective action materializing itself in the shape.  To times the hands transform themselves, caresses become that warm up, or aircraft carrier from where leave some kisses in flight, but also hands that press buttons of death, that become closed and thorny, or hands from that go out projectiles and from that never escapes.  It is I am also organs of sense, absorb and decode the “world around” and to difference of the eye of the nose and of the ear, that we all we see in part or alone with the help of a mirror, the hand is an element directly percepibile and esplorabile, and that gives back it in a certain sense an independent body, a subject with which becomes be able to converse, a sort of totem Of the life. 

The hand is a fetish. 

My mazes of imprints are my manner of to represent the human energy, that runs between my fingers and that it is moved of hand in hand, this hand that multiplies and that it is extended on the shapes, sometimes in a circle closed presenting itself like potential energy and sometimes in a consecutive passage where the tense fingers do not find other hands but imagine them, try a route, continuing seeking the space, giving sense to the emotions

I create objects with that explore myself and the other, in which find the world and with that conversation. 

The hand is alive.  I am hand. 

I am what there it is inside. 

Andrea Coppola