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.

Wednesday, 6 April 2011

This morning I was so small

8 comments:

Ruela said...

Why darling?






;)

Ruela said...

oceana je super, ali vi ste također!

Mersault (Nera B.) said...

Hvala,..Eu estava intoxicado por mar

Ruela said...

To je život!

Mersault (Nera B.) said...

é caro

Robert said...

a vasty sort of small

beautiful photo

Mersault (Nera B.) said...

Thank you Robert

Babalith said...

I can get lost inside this picture