![]() | Welcome to the fourth episode of my European Street Art Tour, where I travel across Europe with my family, documenting the rawest, loudest, and most authentic street art scenes the continent has to offer. This time, we're in Ljubljana, Slovenia—a city that surprised me in the best way. We start our adventure in Metelkova Mesto, a former military barracks abandoned in 1991 after Slovenia’s independence. In '93, artists and activists squatted this place, transforming it into one of the wildest cultural centers I've ever seen. Metelkova isn’t just a gallery—it’s a living, breathing place of art, resistance, and creativity. Every wall, every corner, every single piece of this place feels alive, covered in graffiti, stickers, and mind-bending installations. As an artist myself, I couldn’t resist leaving my own mark behind. Stickers, tiles, and a few surprises—my own way of contributing to the spirit of Metelkova. Everywhere I looked, I found hidden gems: a basketball court taken over by tags, figurines, 3D sculptures, metal spiders, old bicycle handlebars turned into art, even praying mantises and wind installations. It’s like a punk wonderland where art doesn’t ask permission—it demands it. [link] [comments] |
![]() | Welcome to the fourth episode of my European Street Art Tour, where I travel across Europe with my family, documenting the rawest, loudest, and most authentic street art scenes the continent has to offer. This time, we're in Ljubljana, Slovenia—a city that surprised me in the best way. We start our adventure in Metelkova Mesto, a former military barracks abandoned in 1991 after Slovenia’s independence. In '93, artists and activists squatted this place, transforming it into one of the wildest cultural centers I've ever seen. Metelkova isn’t just a gallery—it’s a living, breathing place of art, resistance, and creativity. Every wall, every corner, every single piece of this place feels alive, covered in graffiti, stickers, and mind-bending installations. As an artist myself, I couldn’t resist leaving my own mark behind. Stickers, tiles, and a few surprises—my own way of contributing to the spirit of Metelkova. Everywhere I looked, I found hidden gems: a basketball court taken over by tags, figurines, 3D sculptures, metal spiders, old bicycle handlebars turned into art, even praying mantises and wind installations. It’s like a punk wonderland where art doesn’t ask permission—it demands it. [link] [comments] |