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.
6 comments:
Great colors!!!! and now i've got one of yours to touch and smell!!!!
CHM...
Thanks, touch it all you want, but watch the smell, there might be some cheap calogne on it
nice!
Great JB!!!!!
Enigmatic, intense. I like it!
Ruela...
you rock!
Mersault...
!!!
where's my shirt?
A.D.
glad you do!
thanks fo the support, I'm itching from the roaches
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