strengththe mojave desert breathed a breath of wild life one wind swept, star bleached night when the sands drove splintered shards harsh as cactus spines on milky thighs into being.
doriandra smith slid from her womb hiding place and eclipsed the sun in a crimson moment of wept sighs and gritted fang teeth.
this is me
this is me
she wailed banshee tearstain drop and bleed cries whilst her hands made tiny shear snap 'n cut 'n slice movements. razor slicing the air into convenient shapes for nimbus to form and fold and drift. cotton candy treats for the goblin hordes that hid beneath her crib 'n cradle to feast their bloodied jaws upon.
pre-history of yet to be.
a foretaste.
but the sun wasn't enough and nor the sister moon nor all the stars that glittered pale and wanton light lusting in the ebony thighs of night.
'give me the child' cried a wandering thought 'for i am the gift of singles and i am the gift of one and no one will cock suck me into submission'.
and a deal was made as fast as tin tack lighting and as sure as moss covered leaves.
individuallity before god.
before cash.
before anything.
doriandra has been a model
bareing her beautiful self whilst students plied their art and painted and drew her glorious breasts and form onto parchment soiled by their own desires.
doriandra has made music
working with the legendary cult figure Rozz Williams
and Ace Farren Ford
and EXP a band who knew no frontiers.
PICA is hers and you can sometimes find her there brandishing incandescent words and pictures.
if you visit doriandra at her CrowsCloth site you will see an artistry of woven skills. an amazement of fabric design. she sows the butterkiss thread into heathen shapes from dream concepts.
doriandra was the first to join discharge
she gave it the edge of chaos
and the gift of a constant theme
she comes here sometimes
when she wants.
when the desire takes her.
she leaves gifts.
odd things.
like insect wings
and desicated male members.
she comes here sometimes
like a mojave whisper.
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