ATROCE a collection of about a years worth of work by two self proclaimed misfits, James Kalinda and Centina.
Thanks to the help of three photographers and all further documentation of finished works we have also tried to examine the context and modus operandi from which the designs are developed.
That which we may have not been able to tell more about might be:
The cold that causes your hands to freeze,
The heat that makes you gasp because you’ve usually forgotten to bring water in the car,
Those afternoons spent looking for factories that have already been demolished,
The absurd delays and awakenings,
The hours in the car,
The out of the way bars scattered senselessly around the “Bassa”,
The Mirella,
The carcasses piled up in cars,
All the swear words used because in the winter time the color won’t dry,
The wild run into the coypu, because things aren’t always going well,
The strange encounters in places that should be deserted,
The sludge stained shoes left by who knows what mechanical sphincter and numerous other situations and sensations, that make street painting a major fucking satisfaction that makes you feel alive right down to the core.
Thanks to the help of three photographers and all further documentation of finished works we have also tried to examine the context and modus operandi from which the designs are developed.
That which we may have not been able to tell more about might be:
The cold that causes your hands to freeze,
The heat that makes you gasp because you’ve usually forgotten to bring water in the car,
Those afternoons spent looking for factories that have already been demolished,
The absurd delays and awakenings,
The hours in the car,
The out of the way bars scattered senselessly around the “Bassa”,
The Mirella,
The carcasses piled up in cars,
All the swear words used because in the winter time the color won’t dry,
The wild run into the coypu, because things aren’t always going well,
The strange encounters in places that should be deserted,
The sludge stained shoes left by who knows what mechanical sphincter and numerous other situations and sensations, that make street painting a major fucking satisfaction that makes you feel alive right down to the core.
