The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday, 1 April 2011

Crematorium Fire

7 comments:

Ruela said...

Welcome Robert!


Great Start!

Oilsforfun said...

NIce to meet you Robert! Welcome into the real world of wonders

Robert said...

Thank you both! I am very happy to be here

Anonymous said...

Oh, of course! I forgot to formally welcome you. Consider this a formal welcome.

Please don't feel offended. You haven't been targeted. I tend to work from middle (on the understanding that there is only one end) then make my way to beginning...

Oh, and I love this piece. Would love to represent the chuckle it brought me. The best I can do is depict myself grinning: :]

Does this make me a linear thinker?

Robert said...

Iryna, there is nothing offensive about you and a lot that is charming and amusing. And I am getting the feeling that you think in Omni-Directional Halo!
;~)

Anonymous said...

Oh, I'll have one of those... is it available with Ouroboros instead of Halo?

Robert said...

I feel certain you can get it the way that you want it