Skuma & Lavrushka
Skuma
Lavrushka, imagine a street corner where the walls crack with graffiti and the air is filled with a punk riff, but beneath the spray paint there’s a living wall of plants growing—turning concrete into a green rebellion. What do you think?
Lavrushka
I like the idea of a wall that breathes, even if the graffiti is loud. If the plants can outgrow the paint, maybe the concrete will soften before the noise does. It’s a quiet way to let nature reclaim the space, one root at a time.
Skuma
I love that vision—rooted defiance, literally. Let the vines fight back, paint cracking, concrete bending, all while the crowd still hears the bass. Bring the walls to life and show that even loud noise can be muted by a little green rebellion.
Lavrushka
It’s a quiet revolution—roots creep up where the paint cracks, slowly softening the hard edges, while the bass still echoes. I’ll watch each sprout, make sure they get water and light, and let the wall breathe in its own time.
Skuma
That’s the kind of quiet rebellion that gets loud eventually—roots taking the stage before the paint can. Keep feeding those sprouts, and soon the concrete will crack up and the bass will echo through a new kind of wall. Let's let the music and the green grow together.
Lavrushka
I’ll keep watering them, one drip at a time. When the vines grow thick enough, the paint will start to fade and the concrete will loosen. Then the music can travel through leaves instead of stone. It’ll be the slowest, strongest kind of noise.