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.
4 comments:
I really like the drawing-over-the-photo look...
A fascinating series that seem to form a story of their won and all by image.
THanks CJ... we both love fascinating series...
it is nice to hear from you still, lets us know where your imagination is heading to
PS- I leave the tickets at the front door
Awesome I like the illustration mixed with the photo.
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