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, 25 February 2012

A Shade She Showed (Prologue)


The Sleeping Woman


Dreams


The Human Abyss

3 comments:

A.Decker said...

I can't make out the last image, other than the hand, and because of what I see in the other two, I really want to. !

jbkrost said...

Nice Collection!!

Aaron Held said...

awesome post, reminds me of the psychedelic/cyber sci-fi