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.

Monday, 9 January 2012



Aaron Held said...

great depiction of a dark gloomy day, great shot.

A.Decker said...

When I first took this I thought it was terrible. Then it grew on me. I appreciate your input, Aaron. Thanks.

.:. said...

i don't know nor like what i see.
kindly remove since your follow button is busted like you.
block and or remove my following i follow not the likes of your kind

.:. said...

thank you.

Ruela said...

like it!


A.Decker said...

Thanks Ruela.

A.Decker said...

.:. ,

Don't like it that's fine, but what the hell is all that about a follow button?

And you're welcome.

Actually you're so off the wall it's kind of amusing.

CHM said...

Yes completely off the wall! I like the movement on my head, my imagination working the scene - the long run course into the wild
it reminds me of a film, the one that show the life of Outspensky

A.Decker said...


"...the movement on my head..." I love that! That's exactly why I couldn't stop pondering this image.
I'm unfamiliar with the film, but know a little about Ouspensky, so it's kind of a thrill that you mention him in connection with this.

Thank you!

jbkrost said...

Nice shot A!
I follow the likes of your kind! Gladly

A.Decker said...

Thanks JB!

And thanks again. Ha! I can't help it. That knucklehead tickles me!