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, 22 July 2011

Stop

4 comments:

Ruela said...

Nice job! love it!

Anonymous said...

Yield sign looks like it could slither away at any moment!

Rick said...

Thanks Ruela!

Ioannis, in Japan that's a stop sign! (The writing on the street says "stop.")

TICTAC said...

love the b&w picture. interesting like an unfamiliar written language looks so asemic...almost visual poetry. :-)