Massimo Schito

Where is the Being? Where is the Art? where is the overwhelmed charm of the restless feeling within the endless senses?    A trembling door creaks on the works of Massimo Schito, syncopated bass guitar tones, dense and coarse, echo at the bottom of a contracted stomach, we follow its slow opening towards your dancing and chromatic rooms of being.
Mocking and enchanting sirens whisper the colours of a life being lived, ripped, kicked, enjoyed, searched. Senses melt in the dictionary of no-sense unique in its breath, elusive in the bitterness of the mind…only gut and knowing tones on the run…towards anywhere with no when, within, deep down…like stains of dirty bright emotions and shades of breath on the dense and tepid currents, gushes of essence, drops of enchanted polarity in being, Shouts and whispers of sense, covered in the whirls of blinding fluids on matter…
The naked steps melt in the vertigo of the metamorphosys of sense. Within the breath of the art, in search of the house of presence, behind the creaking door of your chromatic rooms of being.