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.

Friday 15 July 2011

Rusty

7 comments:

Coffee Messiah said...

Nice one = Cheers!

Rick said...

Thank you Coffee and Mersault! :-)

Anonymous said...

They look a bit like rusty wings. Sweet,man, sweet.

Ruela said...

very rusty!

Rick said...

Thanks Ioannis!
"Rusty" like my aging body and brain, Ruela! ;-)

TICTAC said...

i really like it...!!!cheers

doriandra said...

spot on. excellent.