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, 9 December 2011

meh



shadowofadot, cropped & edited

10 comments:

R.Ramakrishnan said...

Dark, dreary & fearful

A.Decker said...

Rama(if I may call you that?),

Yeah, I'm afraid so. Thanks for commenting. Not enough of that on the blogs these days.

Mersault said...

dark and beautiful!!!

A.Decker said...

Mersault,

Thank you, thank you. Depression has its rewards. ;-)

Ruela said...

good exercise ;)

A.Decker said...

Ruela,

Therapy, I reckon. ;-)
Thanks.

jbkrost said...

Yeah...
Great composition!

A.Decker said...

JB,

Thanks. That and the calming effect of pencil work is about all I can say for this one...

Iryna Harpy said...

You're right, Messy... Depression DOES have its own rewards.

Portrait of my mind: astute & accurate!

A.Decker said...

Iryna,

yeah...i guess...(sigh...)


Thank you!

;-)