Frances Armstrong Art

From the static of matter, they became. Two hyenaic spirits, drawn from the ether, found their terrestrial form not in clay or marble, but in the refuse of the world. Their love was not a gentle descent, but a magnificent, gravitational fall. They plunged into this existence, tangled together in a sacred act of disobedience against dissolution.
They are the embodied impulse of love made manifest. A convergence of a thousand textures, a million fragments, now bound by an unbreakable will. They have become the poetry of discarded things, a final, unyielding embrace that defies the passage of time. They are the spirit of love itself, sculpted by its own force, a defiant and beautiful presence in a world that would have them vanish.