Okko Tamminen

I am fascinated by people and their marks. Buzzing markets, abandoned places. The common Joe and their slightly odd friend. Wastelands at the very edge of town. Peculiar industrial areas with auto repair shops. As well as with those ambiguities dancing on the tightrope of law. Those you cannot see, but are there to be sensed, if one lets their antennae move with the endless wind of the capital.  

Immense, impromptu wander and adventure. Faint clues, left for the curious to follow. Love and gentleness, betrayal and ruin. At times it might only be a stench that tells more than a thousand words could. A smell uncovering original sins. One that with no mistake creeps the thirst of life to surface reminding of that moment when, so alone, for the first time you fell headfirst onto the lazzaretto’s floor. Put there that everything goes. And take a sip before it boils over.