Incunabulum (Book I)

Incunabulum (Book I)​

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more powerful than the risk it took to blossom.” -Anais Nin

Incunabulum is the divinely-inspired debut album of Virago; the first documented, fully conscious channeling experience of cosmic forces and the birth of the Artist, translated sonically and melodically into her very first singing and songwriting journey into unknown realms. It is presented as an esoteric essay in sonic structure, with cited, celestial sources and a supported thesis, in Love.

Incunabulum; A deus ex machina, an artistic anthem acting as a precognitive time-stamp to mark the origin story, a benchmark of the beatific vision, framing the cosmic context for the future evolution of the voice and artist of Virago over the time-space continuum.

An involuntary invocation, Incunabulum is both personal and post-apocalyptic, romantic and eerie, possessed by a raw innocence combined with an old-Soul soothsaying. Incunabulum, by Virago, an analog girl in a digital world, submitting a literary thesis statement answered in bold sonic essay, an angelically attuned cosmic coherence of precognitive passion and courageous self-expression, set amongst an extraterrestrial backdrop of paranormal normalcy and magical mystery!

Searingly and spontaneously attuned to an otherworldly voice of the highest order, Incunabulum is a cosmic calling to come forth with a first Order of Creation; a bonified haunting, a direct command from the divine, a white light of comforting relief, an angelically assisted release of too-long held down emotive expression.

Incunabulum; the first recorded growth-ring cycle of an ancient tree of creative life. A record of god acting directly as the one supreme creative force. Incunabulum; the story of a young warrior woman bearing witness to the divine. A messenger, an intercessor, a vessel, called to her vocation by the pathway of interstellar illumination…

Autobiographical, metaphysical, and mystical, an entire passionate life encapsulated within a musical documentary of thirteen compositions, Incunabulum was divinely written over a cathartically chaotic period of two weeks during the holy month of November 2010 A.D. leading up to Thanksgiving. In order to retain the immortal presence of the sacramental Event and forever capture the cosmic Call of the Wild on tape, it was recorded in indie lofi immediately after its inception over another two week self-imposed deadline. Recorded within the very same bedroom where all the songs were written, where all the tears were shed, where lucidly vivid dreams were put to lyrics as effortlessly as holy inspirations and exhalations, the very same bedroom where angelic visitations and extraterrestrial lights descended upon her, where invisible levitations lifted her, where comforting chord progressions soothed her, where inter-dimensional melodies flowed from her and where spirit presences surrounded her…

For Incunabulum, crying out in its inherent infancy, demanded an immediate and esoteric documentation. For the True Perfection lay in the courageous act of putting it out in the open. The True Perfection lay in the victory of the catharsis, memorialized in its immediacy, not in the defeat of a veiled procrastination, an old paradigm of self-denial, camouflaged as perfectionism.

For the True Perfection lay in the imperfections, where the risk to remain silent was more than the risk of the resurrection of her life-long dormant vocal chords, the uncomfortably vulnerable melodies, the Voice cracking, fingers on guitar scratching for the Light. Armed with a bow of Love, a quivering voice and a battle-weary war cry, her strained desperation coupled with cathartic release, a fledgling warrior-poet broke out of her shell, a screaming Eagle in the making, singing to the stars as she had never once before, never once allowed herself to sing before…

Passion and courage, for failure was not an option, in that cosmic cocoon, a complete dissolution followed by a complete, winged re-emerging of Faustian inspiration and Shakespearean proportion…

Incunabulum; drawing influence from the deeply personal and raw emotionality of Joni Mitchell’s Blue, the fierce theatricality of Bjork, the lower-end range of Victoria LeGrand’s gregorian resonance, and profoundly imprinted with the grand societal scope of Radiohead’s OK Computer and the philosophical cinematic mastery of Richard Linklater’s Waking Life. And so blessed with these branch elements, Virago formed her own unique conjuring, deeply and firmly rooted in the indisputable originality of her own karmically ancient and royal Amazon lineage.

And so it was There, in that universal cauldron, where Virago discovered herself for the first time, and emerged victorious, awakened and embodied in her True Self, at the ripe old-Soul age of 25 Earth-years. Born again, a Stanley Kubrick-style starchild witness reformed, reframed, redeemed, realized in sacred song…

And so Incunabulum is, quite literally, the literal and metaphysical birthing of the Artist, Virago. Truly, madly, deeply. One Love, One Heartbeat Eternal.

In contrast to other popular artistic approaches, Virago is not in any way a representation of an “alter-ego”, a separation of art and artist. Rather, Virago represents the truest, highest self, uninhibited and unchained, unprogrammed and unleashed, a conscious incarnation and integration of the whole, the Original Being, before and after The Fall.

Virago is The True-Self, empowered, embodied, eternal, existing in exquisite authenticity, exactly as Mother Nature intended.

Virago: a being of Love. Yes, above all things, Love.

Incunabulum: A story of Love. Yes, above all things, Love.

For the complete direct testimony, sonic love-letters, time-travel writing and and cited sacred sources, please refer to the lyrical transcript for the full dissertation in divine intervention.

Love Always, Virago.

Romantic Evenings of Self

why is it so easy to breathe
but not so easy to leave
our love was something to see
but not as easy for me

but alone, at last
is when you know
nobody's right when they're dead

so i'll just go on

can't you tell we're too far gone?

how can you ask me
to stay in your shadow
i'm drowning

Manifest Waltz

lost in clouds of dust
I'll lie and wait it out
memory that drowns my eyes
pulsing through all that is mine

I saw you in the waves
just like yesterday again

it's so far away
you're so far away

and time could melt you away
as iron
as iron in the forge

but this love will form the sword
still thrust in me


what a sight for bleeding eyes
I would feel light
but for the weight

I could wait for these walls to crumble
or confess, they are only mirages
to keep me in line

careful, they're waiting for you

A Love Or Obsession

so I will lay my heart on the line
for you to harvest
as grapes on the vine

the subtle elixir, only with fire
ferments into final, daydream desire

soul and body, fade to light
time and distance, made finite

come back to me
come back to me

Heart Beats Eternal

heart beats, heart beats
truth seeks, truth speaks

electric signals
contract in sequence

chambers and valves
and vows…



nature of action
prior proceedings
statement of facts

well you can speak extemporaneously
on a variety of subjects

well well

I have no...

I have no direction but desire
and I have no extension of defense

nature of action
prior proceedings
statement of facts

yes you can speak extemporaneously
on a variety of subjects

well, well
I have no direction nor desire
But I have no extension of defense

nature of action
prior proceedings
statement of facts


and you still speak extemporaneously
on a variety of subjects

now I have no direction of desire
and I need no extension of defense

nature of action
prior proceedings
statement of facts

well, I have
emotional intelligence
evolution from tainted genes


Nature of Action

and this is my book of human language
“Makeba”, so to speak
well, this is My book of human language
Makeba’s turn to speak

No One On Earth

high in the grove of the guava
from stunning peaks of palm
came the Vision

far below in the valley
lay the dying city
always softer in shadow

until the Ocean’s rise again
ascending the abyss from down and below

from the sleeping volcano
I made my weary descent
to join the walking dead once more

for it would soon be underwater
and all would be well once again

until the Ocean’s rise again
until the Ocean's rise again
ascending the abyss from down and below

The First Crossing

your presence leaves me
only the dull, steady
pressure of the chest remains
the throat, content to close
a silent, hopeless protest

but if you might
grant me one gift
one kiss, eyes wide shut
I would drink your mouth in mine
then take your leave of me
and carry on

for lungs, filled with joy
have no fear
of long roads that lie ahead
of a wandering mind

and the road is long
and this road is long

Only You (Seasons)

if you only knew
I would give my love to you
only you
only you

It’s this Winter’s chill
That keeps me locked indoors
far from you
far from you

and if you only knew
I would give my love to you
only you
only you…

Cave Dweller

from the dying dream of our love
came the Freudian nightmare
in the flesh
recognition, then
denial to act too soon

no longer a lover, only a Father

and when I looked for you
naked and blindfolded
you turned your face in fear

and where I sought your Soul's window
I found only your cold gaze

oh my darling
cunning cave dweller
was it my Light you could not stand?

all your useless
logic, reason
will never thaw the frost within

and I hope there,
in the brilliant blue of your eyes
the False-Self
will one day subside

but the risk to remain
was more than I could bear
oh, My Love

Me Acuerdo El Lobo

and he knew me
howling through me
always and without speaking

Life, as in Dream
his jaws closed in on me

drawing blood and nectar
we each drank blissfully

and in a blinding flash
he shed his wintry pelt

there, under the trees
we made our bed with it...

{rest, instrumental transition to finality}

he came so quickly
bounding through woodland wasteland
I froze, in fright
that he would not stay near

and in his fleeting eyes I saw
freedom from my destined demise
the warmth, the light
the infinite prize

and now, all that remains
are eternal echoes
of his cries
lost in that forest
I'll sing the song

that he may one day hear...

Drowning In Vision

deep in the night the incubus came
burrowing deep in the spinal column
just at the quick of the neck
left paralyzed

fear not, said Virago
immediately, she awakened
screaming mutiny, mutiny

from the top of mountains lungs
revealing in the ridges
armed with sword of future's flame
she slayed the Demon of the Day

struck by the chords of divine inspiration
where the sun shines so blinding bright
I can move now
freely, and without flight...


Final Departure Schedule

and on my way I will find
the vessel
to take me home
to the shining garden

I close my eyes and return to
starlight and chance
to catch my breath
in the wake of
divine higher lines

and as the portal draws near
I'll see you in Time...


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