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.

Saturday, 21 January 2012

dialingforstatic

"...the Devil looked at me with a soft smile..."



8 comments:

jbkrost said...

Nice shots...
I am drawn to the bottom one...
silent and foreboding.

A.Decker said...

JB,

Thanks. That's pretty much what I was going for. I think.

Ruela said...

nice narrative!

A.Decker said...

Ruela,

Thanks!

CHM said...

Yes the last one! I have one to add. Will post it later

A.Decker said...

CHM,

Thanks. And that sounds great. But how about sooner* instead of later? ;-)

(*I'm anxious to see yours already)

Aaron Held said...

Cool series of images, reminds me of classic discharge.

A.Decker said...

Aaron,

Sorry for the delay in answering but, Thank You very much for that. I'm honored.