Mark Zlotsky

What can I say? I love my hands, but it's a complicated relationship.

A Few Thoughts

My right hand is articulate and precise. It knows exactly what I'm thinking.

n0shot

My Right Hand

My left hand is strong and stable. It wears a golden ring - a testament to my love.

My Left Hand

Rock paper scissors is a simple little game we played as kids; whether to pass time or to call dibs on the bigger slice of pie. Under the hood, it’s a rudimentary and confrontational form of communication; three words caught in a triangular relationship of domination and submission.

A closed fist represents rock: heavy, solid, and capable of crushing scissors. An extended index and middle finger resemble scissors: sharp, sophisticated, and destined to cut paper. An open palm mimics paper: candid, transparent, and clever enough to bind rock. The only moment of truce is when matching gestures are thrown; a brief release of tension and glimpse into a mirror. 

More could be said with the three expressions. A closed fist is handing a concealed gift to an open palm; the extended index and middle fingers are calling for peace. The relationship doesn’t need to be contentious.

‘Rock Paper Scissors’ frames an ongoing conversation between two strangers. Limited to three signals, the strangers may decide whether their dialog is a never-ending chase for power, a mutual armistice, or something deeper altogether.

A third participant narrates my own relationship with my hands. As an artist, my hands mean the world to me - they allow me to express my thoughts and materialize my imagination. Perhaps a cosmic joke, my hands suffer from chronic eczema. Whenever I create art, my hands become fragile, dry husks – as though I channel life from my hands into the work. Despite all this, I choose my art to be about joy and play. In the end, it’s a fun little game.

Rock Paper Scissors

Layers for "Rock Paper Scissors"