ars scriptura

“I was around 14 when that happened,” Bean begins. “I was being shipped back and forth across the world and obviously exploited quite badly, sexually, and isolated from a lot of friends and family. I was trapped in this one bedroom in the Bronx, not really knowing what was going on.”

As a result, they turned to drugs to cope. “A lot of my drug usage at a young age came from that repressed memory and blocked that trauma,” they explain. “Your brain blocks out trauma and I just started remembering things that I didn't even know happened. And so that was a lot for me to overcome mentally.”

Just years later, and still in the grip of addiction, Bean would simultaneously rise to fame as one of the most exciting names in alternative music. 

By John Donne

By Sylvia Plath

A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable!

And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics?

Such pure leaps and spirals — Surely they travel

The world forever, I shall not entirely Sit emptied of beauties, the gift

Of your small breath, the drenched grass Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies.

Their flesh bears no relation. Cold folds of ego, the calla,

And the tiger, embellishing itself — Spots, and a spread of hot petals.

The comets Have such a space to cross,

Such coldness, forgetfulness. So your gestures flake off —The Night Dances

Warm and human, then their pink light Bleeding and peeling

Through the black amnesias of heaven. Why am I given

These lamps, these planets Falling like blessings, like flakes

Six sided, white On my eyes, my lips, my hair