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 29 April 2011

4 comments:

Coffee Messiah said...

There aren't too many of these in this part of the country - really like the shadows = Cheers!

Ruela said...

Beautiful!!!

Robert said...

Thank you both!

Anonymous said...

Right place right time kind of moment. Superb!