Lynn Fister has a vision. It never sits still and often evolves in strange, unexpected, and beautiful ways, but with each new missive from her camp, it remains distinct. Crystal drips of synthetic debris spiral forth into aural sculptures, jutting from the landscape like quartz spires to the sun. Fister's voice is a lighthouse destroying blankets of haze with ghostlike precision.
"With A House Made of Cloud & Bone" she rises through the ether, fortifying a palace in the trees that towers above glacial planes and blackened rivers. Songs became arrows raining down, alive like the fires that burn all night. Edition of 50.