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My
muse is a nebula;
ripples of fusion rocking through her. My muse is a volcanic
vent at the bottom of the sea; strange life huddles around for warmth.
I am just a lamp with many different shades of glass, serving
to shape and interpret her light. How can I give birth
except through her?
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| WORDS | SOUNDS | FORMS |
Ascetic
(2007-Present)
Personae (2006-2007) Post-Pater (2003-2006) Ante-Pater (2000-2003)
Romantic (1998-2001)
Classic (1988-1998)
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Rebelsaint (solo)
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Ceremonies and Rites
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