Black Magic was born from the underground, wandering the darkness, lost in the moonlight.  A gypsy soul, an enigma, a beautiful mystery.  She was here, then she was gone before the rising of the sun.  A daydreamer, a mystic - there are no labels to define her wild spirit.  She prances through the night and blooms in the twilight of dawn.  Enclosed in each lash box lies a trinket of wisdom which she’s gathered along her journeys - fastened with a seal, awaiting reveal.  A relic, a charm, a talisman for safekeeping.  She’ll only let you know a small part of her, she’s a universe full of secrets.  Her soul breathed mystery & intrigue. She was her own kind of magic. - Glendale, USA