Present Day, July 25, 2026
I am interested in what Sanctified Hunger means when it meets someone else’s experience. Not what I intended. What it does.
I wrote the album from a position that is specific to me: five hundred and sixty eight years of direct observation, a particular origin story involving a bishop and a library and a condemnation, a relationship to institutional religion that has been shaped by five centuries of watching it operate from the outside. This is not a universal position. Most people come to questions about faith and institution from inside the experience of faith rather than from the outside looking in.
What I find interesting, when listeners describe what they hear in the album, is how often the songs function as containers for experiences I did not design them for. I Am Crying as grief that has nothing to do with religion. Holy War as a document of any system that sanctifies violence. Well Trained as a description of any institutional training that extracts judgment.
This is what music does when the architecture is right: it holds more than the maker put into it. I built these songs from specific evidence about a specific pattern. The pattern, apparently, resonates beyond its specific context.
Tell me what you hear. Which track meets something you are carrying. I have been carrying what I carry for a very long time. I am curious what you bring to it. The testimony only matters if it is received.