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.
6 comments:
Great concept
come here little butterfly ;)
love the color here
You've taken me back to my childhood, Babalith. Before we grow tired and bored with the most amazing experiences in our existence we see things for how complex and beautiful they are.
I remember watching butterflies; remember climbing trees and looking at the amazingly coloured eggs in nests. Ants were a wonder to behold. Every crack in cement was remarkable.
Thank you for taking me back to that world! Life is as it should be!
Simplicity seems to get lost when we get tangled up with the BS of the World ; (
freedom at last
very beautiful and great symphony of colors - very harmonic
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