Zaragoza, Spain, 2002. In between my tight 10 hour schedule at the language school, which I split between course attendance and homework, I still find time to draw. I have always been fascinated about hands, and when the image of a hand holding a CD disk pops up in my mind, I bring this image down to paper. It is my first attempt of drawing hands. My left hand models, while my right hand draws the lines. When I see the result I realize that the disk doesn’t really look like a real one. It rather reminds me a breast. Shorthand I decide to add a few more lines. As simple as the drawing looks, it associates clearly with what it’s meant to: a hand below a woman’s breast.
Inspired and motivated to improve my hand drawings, I give it another try. I love one position of my left hand, which I often use to observe while day dreaming. I hold it into the sky, turn it slightly, and simply enjoy watching the forms, lines, pillows, knuckles, fingertips… I love the elegance and strength my hand reveals. I love its ability to create what I dream of. And this love I fix on paper. The outcome is pretty accurate, besides the fact that my hand is rather slender.
I fall in love with drawing hands, having in mind already a new image: a hand holding a sheet of paper. The hand results pretty, only with the sheet of paper I get stuck. Placing the paper between the fingers turns out too complicated for my skills. I realize that I probably should observe also papers, not only hands, in order to be able to draw what I imagine. Happily, I am showered with a new idea. Instead of the sheet I now see a breast behind the hand. The index finger and thumb supposed to hold the sheet of paper are now holding the nipple. Voila! There we have a beautiful expression of feminism 😉