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.

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

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8 comments:

leperson said...

love the corrosion, as hard as iron, but oxygen takes its toll

Ruela said...

thank you leperson!

jbkrost said...

hey Ruela..
Is this a....... "ROCK".... star?
get it? rock..
cool!

A.Decker said...

This new textural thing you're exploring is inspired. Truly different.
Like traces of strange tenderness from a lost age...

A.Decker said...

JB,

I can't believe you said that. ;-p

jbkrost said...

Yeah A., that was really lame!
Forgive me ruela..

Ruela said...

hahaha!

you rock jb! ;)

thanx A.Decker ;)

TICTAC said...

cool, intriguing and primitive...i like it!