Anina Müller

The hand wakes up and becomes aware of its own existence. It cannot flee, being
held back by the arm. The hand begins to grope, pull, stroke, poke. The body
discovers itself. Self-love turns into self-hatred, a stormy love affair begins. As a
storage of experience and touch, the body begins to expose itself to compassion
and pain. Divided into autonomous fragments, it becomes a microcosm of its own
memories, in which it plays all the roles: victim, perpetrator, lover, friend.