On stage a thin, white shawl lifts, catches the autumnal light in its gauzy weave. Grey suggestions of limbs shift beneath the fabric. The voice emanating from shroud belies the scene, pulsing through the reverb. Her long, dark frame emerges from the cloth and merges with the shadows. The audience bends as the thrumming gusts of bass pick up intensity, and her face slips from beneath the shawl, a still oval with two watchful smudges. Chelsea Wolfe's voice twists across and between notes with sinuous power.

Thinking Problem

Usually when I’m drinking, it all happens naturally. There’s not a lot of thought put into it. Almost everyone around me is drinking so it’s not unusual for me to be drinking as well. When I consciously decide not to drink, however, it suddenly becomes something unusual; something that I almost have to justify.