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, 16 March 2013

What's in your bag?

1 comment:

Oilsforfun-Cristina Homem de Melo said...

Splendid Ruela it is as if your life is suspended in a bag with its rithms...
The music balances your blood
determines your space
describes the path