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.
7 comments:
beautiful how light paints your canvas with shadows...cool picture!
Life is an empty canvas, until you fill it up.
TICTAC,
Thank you! Kinda like 'found art.' Eh?
JB,
That's just too philosophical...
;-)
Yeah I know.... I need to stop that crap.
haha,
Nice image here kinda like painting with shadows.
Aaron,
Thanks. Yeah, that'a what I thought.
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