by Massimo Polello

How else can I feel alive and that I exist in this world but through my hand? My hand leaves a trace, my hand writes and describes me. In this way, letters become a means to exist outside myself. Often forgetting what writing means, going beyond the letters, captured by a sole need to see. The letters become signs, images, evocations, urgent needs, emotions. The gesture of a hand that writes becomes free in its desire to speak for itself, speaking of things beyond itself.

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