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.

Sunday, 6 November 2011

dwell...



"I don't know whether my life has been a success or a failure. But not having any anxiety about becoming one instead of the other, and just taking things as they come along, I've had a lot of extra time to enjoy life." - Harpo Marx

6 comments:

Ruela said...

Excellent!

A.Decker said...

Ruela,

Thank you, thank you.

CHM said...

Marvelous view in all senses

A.Decker said...

CHM,

That's good. Thanks.

jbkrost said...

yeah...
these are all good shots! keep em coming!

A.Decker said...

JB,

All right! Just remember, you asked for it! ;-D

Thanks.