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.

Sunday, 3 April 2011

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trapped in the vagueness of the meaning



Photobucket


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7 comments:

Mersault (Nera B.) said...

Great image and great words. beautiful

Ruela said...

great! welcome my friend!

Robert said...

This is very intriguing and elusive

Babalith said...

Magic mirror...

Oilsforfun said...

entangled to discharge
So nice to see ya!

Anonymous said...

Ah, P! You KNOW I'm hooked on the feminine lines.

So good to see your works again! xoxo

TICTAC said...

Thank you very much Mersault, Ruela, Robert, Babalith, CHM and Iryna!
cheers