Roberto Zinna

The story of a panic attack; of one, no, two hands dancing; of a party that does not fit everyone; of a tramp challenging the divine; of a little girl that aged a bit. The story of everybody, of somebody, or maybe the story of nobody at all, that unfolds under the eyes of an atonic spectator. The fragmented story of the myth of the common man, of their strengths and their weaknesses, of their feelings and their emotions, of their success and thier failure. In a few words, the story of the human contradiction. The story of the steps of the first and last individual, and all of those who walked in the meantime. The human life.

The story of a panic attack; of one, no, two hands dancing; of a party that does not fit everyone; of a tramp challenging the divine; of a little girl that aged a bit. The story of everybody, of somebody, or maybe the story of nobody at all, that unfolds under the eyes of an atonic spectator. The fragmented story of the myth of the common man, of their strengths and their weaknesses, of their feelings and their emotions, of their success and thier failure. In a few words, the story of the human contradiction. The story of the steps of the first and last individual, and all of those who walked in the meantime. The human life.

The story of a panic attack; of one, no, two hands dancing; of a party that does not fit everyone; of a tramp challenging the divine; of a little girl that aged a bit. The story of everybody, of somebody, or maybe the story of nobody at all, that unfolds under the eyes of an atonic spectator. The fragmented story of the myth of the common man, of their strengths and their weaknesses, of their feelings and their emotions, of their success and thier failure. In a few words, the story of the human contradiction. The story of the steps of the first and last individual, and all of those who walked in the meantime. The human life.