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.

Friday 4 May 2012

crop

6 comments:

Ruela said...

cool!

Anonymous said...

Ruela,

Thanky!

Oilsforfun said...

Amazing the texture that comes out! the softness of hair! splendid

Anonymous said...

Thank you Cristina!

jbkrost said...

The graphite king!

Anonymous said...

JB,

You humble me, good sir.

Thanks.