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.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
la muerte necesita un lugar
"Los espejos son las puertas por donde pasa la muerte"
"Quand il faudra fermer le livre,
ce sera sans regretter rien.
J'ai vu tant de gens si mal vivre,
et tant de gens, mourir si bien."