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.
5 comments:
A broken heart sucks...
The image is unusual and has a weird essence about it, but has so much wonderful creativity involved, and the hair looks sweet as it flows in to the black!
Excellent!!!!!!
Nice work...
a little time will heal that broken heart.
schmuack to you all! I needed it (hahah) time to heal
A powerful companion to the next one...
Post a Comment