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.

Tuesday 24 May 2011

Warning


"...there's iron in my heart

I was born without your favor
But my feelings were a little bit too strong
Just a little bit too strong."

- Black Sabbath

4 comments:

Ruela said...

Hell's Kitchen?

;)

Anonymous said...

Pretty much. Heh, heh...


;-)

doriandra said...

yes..

Anonymous said...

Doriandra,

Thank you.