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.
4 comments:
this image seems to reflect my current thoughts, and emotions. It has a sense of isolation a solitary road.. nice work.
Aaron,
Thanks. It's from 'back home' (AR), and the isolation drew me down this road a lot, sketching and shooting...
Very cool place!
the long road to solitude. beautifully expressed.
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