Somewhere between a human and a glitch in the matrix, I was raised by an autistic mother who talks to the seaβso really, me chatting with crows isnβt that weird. (Okay, sometimes ravens too. But they started it.)
My voice sits at a pleasant 16 Hz, which means you donβt so much hear me as feel me vibrating through your spine. I forget to change clothes until someone points out last weekβs curry on this weekβs shirt. I drink wine out of vaguely fancy glasses, obsess over microphones like theyβre rare birds, and grew up loving Cars. The cartoon. Yes, that one. I donβt know either.
These days, Iβm an artist who works with metal (see, not mental, but letβs not rule it out), with musical tastes ranging from Frank Sinatra to Slipknot, depending on the mood of the forge. If big band musicβs playing, I might even almost tap my foot.
Aquarius sun, Gemini rising, permanently deadpan. Itβs not a phaseβitβs just my face.