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.

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

...

all of gods errant children,
gathered up like fragrant leaves,
scorched and carried away by fickle breezes.

5 comments:

Ruela said...

love it!

Russell Duffy said...

Very beautiful.

Shadow Lor said...

I love the contrast. It's very inspirational, actually.

A.Decker said...

I'm gonna behave more errantly so that I too may be scorched...

Lovely shot.

TICTAC said...

powerful.