Darja Väärsi's life reads like a compelling narrative of survival, transformation, and unyielding creativity. From fleeing Soviet-occupied Estonia to establishing herself as a versatile artist in music, modeling, and acting, her journey embodies the essence of resilience. In this exclusive interview with The Black Ravens, Darja delves into her past experiences, the evolution of her unique sound blending Gothic Country, Shoegaze, Post-punk, and Blackgaze, and the profound influences that have shaped her artistic vision.
To sum it up briefly, my family fled Estonia when it was illegally occupied by Russia, much like Ukraine is today. My parents came from different nationalities, which made life even harder. In fact, I was often called a "half-breed," a label that underscored the cultural divide. Even now, some identify with Russia and long for the reunification of the USSR, while others embrace their own independence and identity. Back then, the cultural divide made life especially difficult for families who married someone from the "other side."
My father, a wrongfully imprisoned freedom fighter, spent a decade incarcerated and survived a near-fatal gunshot wound to the head at the age of 14. Despite years of torture and untreated health conditions, he survived and eventually became a war hero. Tattoos played a key role in his survival. If you're familiar with the culture of Russian prison tattoos, you know they were often the difference between life and death. As my father rose through the ranks, he had his entire body tattooed. He became a powerful figure, responsible for sparing the lives of other wrongfully imprisoned children and ensuring their release so they wouldn’t suffer the same fate. Tattoos were never taboo for me, they are a tribute to my father and a healthy way of coping with my own pain.
Given these circumstances, we sold everything and bribed our way out of Estonia, becoming homeless for nearly half a decade. We traveled from country to country until we reached Italy, where the Estonian government was temporarily operating. We washed car windows, were spat on, and carried only layers of clothes, books, pillows, and our dog, Phelia. Eventually, diplomats sponsored us, granting us political asylum in the United States. It was just the five of us: my parents, my Irish twin brother, half-sister, and me, crossing the Atlantic.
Upon arriving in America, we were sent from New York to Texas. It was a traumatic experience, but despite everything, I’ve always had an affection for Texas. My parents did what they could, but I witnessed many things that deeply shaped my identity. I saw a lot of death, including animals starving to death and suffering in other ways. We too starved. The pain and loss led me to become a vegetarian at 12.
At 13, I was placed in foster care. By 14, the government had forgotten about me and I was working full-time in California and supporting myself. This is where my strength, perseverance, and comfort in solitude were forged. When you have no safety net, you have no choice but to keep moving forward and creating a future. In fact, I never feel truly lonely—so long as I have a cat. I thrive in isolation and often create alone.
I learned at a young age to put your best foot forward, and in simplest terms, no one wants to hire someone who's a wet blanket, carrying sadness in their eyes. So, I set my pain aside for survival.
I’ve survived nearly every imaginable hardship: from growing up as a refugee, to attempted kidnappings, foster care, homelessness, rape, domestic violence, and even being intentionally shot. I don’t hide what I’ve overcome, especially since I’m often judged unfairly based on my appearance and small stature. After being forced into survival mode through no fault of my own, I have no patience for disrespect. I make my strength known so people understand not to fuck with me, because they won’t come out on top.
I’ve been writing mini books, poetry, music, and drawing since I was 12. I officially started modeling at 15, not out of passion, but as a way to win money for veterinary school. That pursuit led to professional work and honed my skills both behind and in front of the lens. As a creator and idea person, I naturally expanded into hair, makeup, styling, editing, and photography. Eventually, I worked professionally in photography and editing, which later led me into film as both talent and a PA, working as an actress, photo double, stand-in and pursuing stunt training.
My journey escaping Soviet occupation profoundly shaped my creative expression. Raised amidst turmoil and change, I found my voice through art. As a refugee, those formative years pushed me to communicate the struggles and triumphs of my life. In truth, there is a misconception that your problems are solved and your life is fixed once you gain asylum and immigrate to another country. Many families are destroyed by the hardships that precede that, and, as you can see from my story, we are often forgotten and face many tragedies. Themes of loss, identity, displacement, pain, grief, injustice, love, and transformation are woven into everything I create. My art is about transmuting pain into something beautiful. In truth, I had no choice but to create, without it, I wouldn’t be alive. Art allowed me to build a world I wanted to exist in, one better than the reality I had.
If you haven't personally overcome these things, it may be impossible to comprehend the permanent damage you incur simply fighting to survive. I'm only human, and it can take irreversible tolls. And if you have not experienced this feeling of complete and utter aloneness, you may not understand how remarkable any accomplishments are following that. Staying alive, in and of itself, is the greatest achievement of all.
Before coming to America, my musical world was rooted in classical, opera, folk, world music, and foreign genres from countless countries. I come from a long line of classical musicians, as well as guitarists, accordion players, and singers. My first exposure to American music came through oldies, blues, Motown, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Elvis, and Johnny Cash. Later, R&B entered the mix, and at twelve, I first heard Rammstein and Opeth. This led me into the world of metal, especially after I became involved in the industrial scene in LA, playing synths, writing, and releasing industrial/EBM music (including in Russian). The global audience responded well, since Russian lyrics were rare in the genre, which was usually dominated by English.
I learned to program for industrial tours as a synth player through Jamie Duffy, who was part of Acumen Nation, Chemlab, Pigface, and other seminal bands from the original Chicago industrial scene. Metal, for me, is mostly prog, black metal, and atmospheric, with some of my favorite acts being Tool, Opeth, Dissection, Carcass, Alcest, and Gojira.
The intersection of these influences defines my sound today—a rich blend of Gothic, Country, Gospel (despite my irreligion), Pop, Rock, Blues, Metal, world music, and electronic elements. World music, with its vast array of rhythms, scales, and traditions, has had a profound impact on me, inspiring unique approaches to composition and performance. I have a ton of unreleased music, ranging from 80s Blondie to Russian Circles.
I'm also deeply inspired by others with refugee connections like M.I.A., K'naan, Amadou & Mariam, Dino Lenny, and even Nina Simone, who faced similar displacement. As well as the DIY approach by Santigold, which has had a huge impact on me, as well as the recording styles of legends from the 1920s-70s. In particular, I admire their raw talent and their recording process, art in its purest form, like recording vocals in one take. My love for electronic music spans across genres, House, EDM, EBM, Trip-Hop, Synth Pop, Industrial, you name it.
Growing up in Texas was my first exposure to Western culture, and it was a huge culture shock, as was living in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Northwest following that. But, like many foreigners, I fell in love with it—the wildness at heart, risking it for the biscuit, the bravery, not knowing what awaited you. After that, I lived in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Northwest, where I found a deep connection to the land and the peace of isolation. It’s why I love spending time in the Midwest in the middle of nowhere, under a blanket of stars, with bobcat cries, howling wolves, and the scared mooing of cows. Being by the old one-room churches built in the 1800s, you're reminded of how terrifying and unsafe it is to be alone there and how brave these people were to be the first ones there. To this day, I still see myself as a bit of a cowgirl and I have a lot of soul. I’ve always been drawn to doing modern renditions of old Honky Tonk and Gospel songs written and sung by men 80 years ago. It’s this intersection of cultures that continues to shape my music today.
Lastly, I want to add that more than half of my friends are professional musicians. I’ve been blessed to collaborate with some, like The Atlas Moth, modeling for their album covers, merch, tour posters, and starring in some music videos. I hope to collaborate with my friends in any capacity one day. I tend to be a bit understated or humble about my accomplishments and abilities, to the point that most of my friends weren’t even aware of my musical talents and inclinations. Obviously having wonderfully talented and down to earth friends who are creative powerhouses is one of the greatest influences of all.
The name California Widow is an old Western term rooted in the Gold Rush and Wild West eras. It referred to women abandoned by their partners, who ventured westward in search of wealth, striking gold, and adventure, only to be left with empty promises. These women were widowed by circumstance and faith, never knowing what became of their loved ones. California, and the West in general during that time, was a new frontier, uninhabited, full of unknowns, danger, and even mythical creatures. Growing up in Texas, I was immersed in Mexican and Western films with the likes of Clint Eastwood, followed by living in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Northwest, where the rugged environment mirrored the harshness of loss and isolation.
To me, California Widow represents Hagaz, an ancient Viking rune symbolizing hail, boundaries, and disruption. Hagaz is a powerful force in Norse culture, one that embodies both destruction and transformation. It’s a representation of the unknown and the thresholds we must cross in life, where trials and challenges ultimately lead to personal growth. This ties into my northern european heritage, where they sailed into the unknown, constantly facing danger in their search for new lands and experiences. In this sense, Hagaz is about navigating through the darkness, much like the Vikings did, toward the light and renewal that come with transformation.
As a romantic, I view the name California Widow as a reflection of that journey, facing the unknown, enduring hardship, and rising from it to start anew. It resonates with anyone who has gone through personal trials, faced their darkest moments, and emerged stronger and more aware of their inner strength.
I avoid listening to much music before or during my work to prevent any accidental influences. Instead, I let my emotions marinate for long periods, sometimes months, sometimes years, before releasing everything at once. This results in entire songs, from melodies to lyrics, coming together off the cuff. I also thrive under pressure, particularly in collaborations. When there’s no choice but to make something happen quickly, that’s when I do my best work. I have the ability to hear the first seconds of a song and get ideas for completely different renditions in varying genres and versions. That’s actually the magic moment, when I know a cover is worth it because it can do the original justice, in my opinion, the only reason to.
All of my work is deeply personal, drawing from my past. While I don’t wish for the pain, I credit the pandemic with forcing me to slow down, focus on self-work, and releasing music. I lost my paralegal job in part due to Covid. The illness, paired with pneumonia, nearly cost me my life, leaving me without a sense of smell or taste and physically wasting away. But it was also the first time I couldn’t push through, go out, and start anew. I had to stay in and carve a new path for myself.
That time allowed me to confront past trauma, emotional baggage, severe anxiety, depression, PTSD, years of amnesia, and do the self-work to fix what the stresses of fighting for survival never allowed me to. In the midst of this, I released seven singles, spanning from gothic country to industrial, showcasing both clean and growling vocals. I also collaborated with Chrome Waves and Deeper Graves. My Deeper Graves single was featured in Decibel Magazine, and I shot the music video in one day on my own budget with two teams of friends in LA and Chicago. The song touches on domestic violence and includes vocals in both Russian and English.
I filmed part of the video during the riots in Chicago, capturing footage at home as well. It was a terrifying time, mobs of armed people, helicopters overhead, stores looted, and business owners attacked outside my front door. I had to brush up on personal defense. It reminded me of being born in war. It wasn’t my first experience with danger, and luckily, my father was a gunsmith. I’m a product of war, and when survival is on the line, fear is pushed aside in favor of planning and self-defense.
As a self-taught artist, my creative process is intuitive and personal. Sometimes I hibernate, absorbing life’s moments, and when the time is right, I channel it all into my craft, immersing myself completely in writing and recording for hours or days on end. To the point of “audio blindness.” This has resulted in an extensive catalog of unreleased material, which in part is also because I am an audio engineer now; I write, record, and edit my own work. So, I feel the work hasn’t achieved its best version yet, which explains the delay. For me, creating isn’t about fame or trends; it’s a transformative act driven by passion, meaning, and a commitment to leaving behind a legacy I’m proud of.
My experiences with hardship, including my involvement in various causes, have deeply shaped my artistic philosophy. Art is a powerful tool for change, and I use myself, my art and platform to raise awareness of important social issues. I believe art should connect with others, making difficult topics more approachable, palatable and relatable. The Decibel Magazine music video I created, was bilingual (Russian and English) and inspired by the domestic violence I endured, and a deep personal expression of that belief.
With a background in Animal Rights, Welfare, Human Rights, Environmental Activism, Suicide Awareness, and wrongful convictions, I’ve dedicated my life to advocating for justice, kindness, compassion and self work. My pursuit of veterinary and paralegal work, which I’ve done in multiple states, was driven by the desire to help others, including with cold cases. My activism and art are intertwined by the desire to create a more just, beautiful, and compassionate world. Where people feel safe to express themselves without prejudice, this can ultimately change and save lives.
Throughout my life I’ve used my platform to raise awareness of the struggles I’ve faced solely to show others there is hope and possibility beyond the feelings of impossibility, while encouraging others to do the same. This dedication extends into my personal health journey, where I continue to shed light on the physical and mental health challenges many face. By sharing my own story, I hope to inspire others to keep pushing through their battles, demonstrating that anything is possible and that the humanity in everyone is worth honoring.
People often make assumptions about you based on your appearance and how you carry yourself, often overlooking what you’ve lived through and overcome. That’s why it’s so important to share this part of our journey.
Creating my self-produced music video Last Transmission, which premiered in Decibel Magazine, and having Dirt featured in Dark Beauty Magazine were significant milestones in my artistic journey, as well as being recognized by many mainstream music outlets. These achievements provided opportunities like tour and festival offers, but I’m not interested in touring at this time. Visuals are key in enhancing the storytelling experience, helping craft an immersive world that allows the audience to feel the emotional depth of the music. They establish atmosphere and showcase creativity in countless ways, including humor and personality. My background in wardrobe, hair, and makeup gives me a unique perspective on visualizing music, transforming emotions into powerful imagery.
Though I starred in a #1 MTV music video for Yulia Volkova of TATU, playing the ex-bandmate in their official breakup song, I didn’t grow up watching music videos or TV. To be honest, I didn’t have the luxury of television for much of my life (or even a TV). I was too focused on surviving, working, or diving into visual art. Because of that, music videos never became a norm for me. Still, I have lofty ideas moving forward, including a Björk-esque concept in mind for future performances.
Technically, I have other, better “secret” music videos out there, but no one can connect them to me. They’re a bit like Aphex Twin or Twin Peaks in terms of content. I’ve barely released any music videos under my name, but I hope to release one I’m truly proud of in my lifetime. So far, that moment hasn’t come. After all, I’ve never tried to belong to a label, and I wasn’t wealthy, so at times my ideas didn’t match my budget.
I don’t personally feel I balance much, but I’ve historically pushed myself to the point of exhaustion and sickness trying to. Now, I’m relishing calm, slow living, forest bathing, girl mossing, sleep, mental health, and embracing self-care for the first time. All of my art is therapeutic. I’ve developed rituals that help me be a better version of myself, including diet, exercise, gratitude, connectivity, and purposeful disconnection.
Caring for feral animals and nurturing a bond with the wildlife in my neighborhood brings me peace, grounding me in nature amidst the urban landscape. Sailing long distances feeds my soul, and surfing has become the most exhilarating experience I’ve ever known. It’s also one of the most therapeutic treatments for PTSD. The U.S. Navy has funded research on its benefits for treating soldiers with PTSD, and there’s even a documentary on the topic called Resurface.
I suppose when you’ve died inside before, risking your life in thrilling sports and experiences makes you feel alive. That’s something I’m guilty of, and definitely won’t be acquitted of, haha! I’m also a three-time nationally certified sailor who will probably end up becoming a sea captain. Water has well-documented meditative and psychological benefits, but beyond that, I have a goal to live on a boat. Creating a library of trailer music is especially beneficial for keeping me afloat, pun intended.
I no longer strive for balance; I strive for peace. These days, I cherish rituals, self-care, and gratitude, reconnecting with nature no matter where I am. I also encourage others to step away from the constant online rush and keep the most intimate parts of their lives to themselves. Some of life’s most beautiful moments are meant to remain private, solely yours, not shared for likes, money, or strangers. That’s where the true magic of existence lies. These are also the types of individuals I prefer to surround myself with, where I don’t have to worry about anything automatically being shared.
There’s a prejudice toward people who pursue multiple jobs or art forms, assuming they’re mediocre at all of them. But there are remarkable individuals who prove that’s not true—like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Rihanna, and David Bowie. So prove them wrong. You miss every shot you don’t take.
Don’t let conventional opinions about the necessity of formal education hold you back. You were born with the innate ability to express yourself through art in many forms. Many self-taught musicians absorb music theory through practice and intuition, often without even realizing it. The journey to knowledge isn’t linear, people arrive at the same understanding through various paths. Don’t be discouraged by a lack of formal education—some of the most groundbreaking artists carved their own way, often embracing unconventional techniques like odd time signatures.
For those hoping to break into multiple artistic fields, my advice is simple: start with self- awareness and evaluate yourself as an outsider would. Ask yourself if you genuinely believe you're good. If you’re doing this for fun or therapy, that’s fine. But if your motivation is vanity, attention, or external validation, take a step back. The market is overwatered with uninspired “art” already. I'll take the heat and be the bad guy if it means calling it out.
Experiment, follow your passions, and remember that consistency and dedication are essential. Diversity opens doors, experiences and collaboration shape you. You’ll have to put in the work, with little or no pay, paying your dues, building relationships, and creating opportunities. Proactiveness is key.
Also, don’t post cover songs you don't have a license for. It’s illegal, and it's why labels generally won’t pick you up, unless you have permission from the artists. It shows a lack of respect for other artists and entertainment law—and it’s highly unprofessional. One song alone could cost millions in lawsuits. Yes, if it’s remarkable, a band may allow it to stay up and collect royalties on your behalf, but that’s the exception, not the rule. If you do “make it", don’t be surprised if legal teams pursue you, they usually don’t go after unsuccessful unknown artists because there’s nothing to sue for yet.
Most importantly be authentic, stay different. It’s the unique people that don’t think linearly that break barriers. If you’re an artist driven by emotion, stay that way, this is what connects us to others, and in my opinion makes work remarkable and stand apart. If you’re a multi-faceted artist, keep your hands in many pots, it helps to have multiple streams of income, and you’d be surprised in what takes off at times. It’s also okay if people don’t believe in you, believe in yourself, I’ve been put down, laughed at, mocked, undermined, sabotaged, rejected, and scrutinized more often than not, success and acceptance are not always mutually exclusive. But if you don’t believe in yourself, how can you inspire others to do so?
I’m currently working on a broad range of projects, from solo work to collaborations and trailer music. I have music available under different names and tend to value the opinions of strangers over sharing my work with those I know or audiences already positively biased toward me. For me, the proof is in the work let it speak for itself. I’m also in the process of editing and re- releasing older tracks, which is why much of my previous catalog has been removed from most platforms (except Bandcamp), with a few still available on all platforms. Alongside this, I’m excited to explore anonymous music and visual art projects. Seeing the success of trailer music has also influenced my creative process, giving me a better grasp of what pairs best with soundtracks and ultimately shaping my writing style.
I recently wrapped an independent film titled Don't Let Go, which explores deeply personal topics like suicide, featuring one of my songs. I had the privilege of recording an Estonian voiceover for it, which I’m especially excited about. Voice-over work is now a primary focus moving forward.
Collaboration remains a cornerstone of my creative journey, and I’m eager to work with artists from all mediums and backgrounds, whether writing, visual art, TV/Film, voiceover, or music. I also desire incorporating instruments like banjo, mandolin, accordion, and cello. Additionally, I have a deep love for minimalist, vocally-driven music, where the voice and emotion take center stage.
My music has been featured across major platforms, including BBC, Netflix, Showtime, Animal Planet, Discovery, Hulu, and more, including shows like The Voice and Love is Blind. Sync placements remain a key focus, but above all, I’m curious about what I’m capable of and what’s next. Bring it on!
There are also other business, nonprofit, and book ventures in the works, but I prefer not to share anything until it’s completed. Self-portraits, though, will be an ongoing, no-pressure form of self- expression that I’ll continue elevating. Do however, keep an eye out for a new merch store and a plethora of designs I’m dropping shortly.
People connect with my work because they sense it’s lived. People like my work because they like me. I’d say I’m more of a personality, and I don’t fully understand what the fuss is about. I’m larger-than-life with vocal tones, inflections, gestures, and a unique way of dressing. I feel this also translates into my writing. It’s part of the thoughtfulness I possess; I want everything I do to have intention, meaning and be special. That’s why I share a lot of in-depth and helpful information, though I’m aware reading is a dying art. Honestly, I haven’t shown much. In fact, every day that goes by, I scrape more old work off the internet. I began doing this 15 years ago, which is why you can’t find much.
I think of the longevity in everything I do, including interviews, which is why things can take so long. Over time, I’ve also become more private. Privacy will be the most valuable thing in the future, so I urge others to not give their life and privacy away for free or to just anyone.
You have to have a sense of self, to truly know who you are, then you become an unshatterable, immovable force. Take the time to heal the damage life has burdened you with; it will give you powerful self-awareness, presence, and confidence. Take up space, make yourself known, stand up for yourself. You will be unstoppable. I am proof of possibility beyond limitation.
Above all, I hope my life and work inspire hope. Make like a book and turn the page. When I was young, my AOL AIM name was LongestLastICan, so, stay different and outlast. One thing I can attest to is that your breaking points lead to breakthroughs. So always give life the grace of time, go until the end, and see if it truly is. I’ve personally learned that it often isn’t…
