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 8 January 2012

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7 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's all part of the healing process.

Life & hearts all fall into these spectrums.

Powerful image!

Anonymous said...

She suffers grasping passion in the streamlined grid..

Anonymous said...

She becomes she/he.

Aaron Held said...

weird, creative and emotional...I love it, Sweet image CHM

Ruela said...

beautiful new series

Oilsforfun said...

Thanks guys, i'm into the Drama of life, apparentely, as it seems
Why? I have to discover it...
Do I know whose in me, when?

jbkrost said...

Yes...
Time will help this pain.