artemis

suffering trauma, pain, or loss is never fun. artemis jackson makes those rough times seem a lot less painful. a lot less numbing. she produces, programs, mixes and masters her songs entirely alone.

born and raised in hollywood south florida, the faceless Artemis Jackson is a transgender, multi-instrumentalist persona, built from a time of masochistic internet addiction, parental abuse, and paranoia. a warped identity due from consistent suppression and confusion prevails throughout the oftentimes beatless, multi-colored, genre-defying electronica she weaves from electronic, undefined dust. she bleeds an uncanny valley of electronically programmed instrumentation,  and paints the tales of the utopian world, the one sold her to since birth, in her art. 

struggles with self-hatred and self-destruction are cathartically, beautifully woven into every inch of her sound, from top to bottom. with no concern for professionalism, presentation, or self-preservation, her music is the last bastion she has to prove that she exists as something less vile to not only herself, but her demons. eyed down from the time she was 18 due to an unhinged and irrefutably confused past, her identity, sense of true self, and self-esteem remains shattered. 

did i bring this upon myself? do i deserve this?