Prickle & Kuku
Prickle
Yo Kuku, ever imagined a busted '60s roadster as the ultimate canvas for a storm‑tatted back‑leg—raw, untamed, like the road itself? What's your take on turning that chaos into ink?
Kuku
Yeah, that’s wild, like a cracked roadster splashed with lightning. Imagine the rusted frame echoing storm clouds, each line of ink a thunderclap. I’m all in for chaos turning into a living tapestry, even if it feels a bit too raw to hold. Let the ink breathe, let the road scream back.
Prickle
That’s the vibe I’m chasing—raw, unfiltered, like a broken road screaming into the night. Keep the ink gritty, let the thunder crack, and watch the old frame finally get the story it deserves.