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.
8 comments:
Nice piece, JB. This one has me going.
thanks guys!!!
EXCELLENT
This has loads of atmosphere:)
Mersault...
a BIG thanks!!
Gwen...
One for you also!
Really like your style. Pale and somehow alien yet still embracing.
Thanks C.J.... glad to see you here!
Interesting how the body is formed I like it, it blends in makes it seems like part of a terrain, or clouds in the sky.
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