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, 8 April 2011

10 comments:

murmurists said...

Parable of encore, I have waited upon you.

Robert said...

love the dress
love the syntax

murmurists said...

Thank you Robert

J. D. Nelson said...

love those drapes, too!

Ruela said...

Love it!


5*

Coffee Messiah said...

An interesting read - Cheers!

Mersault (Nera B.) said...

I love the red screaming letters, like the letters move and speak the words of text. Powerful great image that completes the action of red letters. Love it..

Oilsforfun said...

so sensual and light
heavy in desire
elegant in matter

jbkrost said...

This is a beautiful and haunting image!!
I love it

murmurists said...

Thank you all for your kind words. Best wishes x