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, 28 June 2011

The Crumbling Shed -Essex

4 comments:

Ruela said...

love this old houses!

Mersault said...

Love it :))

CHM said...

great colors

manina31 said...

they are spooky at night and smell of old times..!