GATA sits down with Orion — aka EVANORA, aka Marjorie Sinclair — in Tokyo, just ahead of their show. It’s raining outside, all the cafes are packed, and we’re curled up in the bar where they filmed Enter the Void. Three tequila shots deep, Orion opens up about being misunderstood, life on the road, and the search for meditative chaos.

Although the image tracks: a blood-covered face, clips of them floating through the dark corners of the internet — bathtubs in castles, fans swarming, guns in the shower. Drugs. Chaos. Pure, unfiltered carnage.

Orion tells us the whirlwind has finally quieted. For now, they’ve slipped out of the chaos — peacefully tucked away in the Croatian countryside.

“ I concentrate on what I am feeling and I push that out into the world. But people just see the chaos. The concentrated chaos. Not the high level of organization behind it. Sometimes it’s conscious, sometimes it’s like I can feel myself in the moment, tripping out a bit.”

— Orion

GATA: Tell me about Evanora and Marjorie Sinclair.

Orion: Evanora started back in high school. At first, there wasn’t a super clear intention behind it, but the meaning kind of revealed itself over time. It means “giver of light”—or Evanora Unlimited - “unlimited light,” which I didn’t even know when I first picked the name. My mom told me later. That project was always meant for live performance. I was obsessed with the energy of my friends’ shows and wanted to tap into that. It became my way to create music that felt loud, alive, and meant for the stage.

But I also had music that didn’t quite fit that mold. That’s where Marjorie Sinclair came in. It started as a throwaway alias - something anonymous where I could drop whatever I wanted without overthinking. At first, I didn’t want people to pay attention to it. I wanted the focus on Evanora. But over time, Marjorie took on a life of its own. I used to resist it, almost deny its value, but eventually I stopped fighting it.

Now I see Marjorie as just as important, it's more experimental, more chaotic, but still intentional. It’s become a home for everything I couldn’t neatly fit into Evanora. And once I embraced it fully, it started to evolve in a more conceptual direction too.

GATA: Are you aware of people’s perception of you? Do they project from the online lore?

Orion: Oh, definitely. A lot of people think I’m super crazy. I am in a way, but I also feel like I’m just normal. I like getting in the crowd, performing from within the crowd, or doing something out-there like being covered in blood. It’s just fun. But people attach all these wild meanings to it. They think it’s something deeper, or some dark ritual. But I’m just out there having fun.

In Berlin, I did this thing where I taped a bag of ramen filled with fake blood to a cutting board and stuck it under my shirt. Then I went into the crowd, pulled out a knife, and did a little ‘seppuku’ bit. It was a performance, you know? Nothing crazy. But in the video, it looked real as hell, and people started freaking out. It looked so intense at first, like, “shit, is he okay?” But everyone was still having a good time, you know?

Just a performance.

Then I posted something on social media like, "Crazy how long you can perform after stabbing yourself multiple times," just being sarcastic, but people took it way too seriously. Started sending me death threats and stuff. And I’m just like... what? People took it as me glorifying violence, but really, I was just trying to entertain. I learned a lot from that. It’s not about the shock value, it’s about creating a moment. But I don’t want anyone to think they should replicate that. I don’t want to be responsible for that. I’ve done things where I’ve taped fireworks to my hands or something just to make it bigger. I want to go above and beyond, but it’s all spontaneous. It’s not planned. I’m just trying to create something unique in the moment. Like for the Tokyo show, I already have a few ideas in mind. Who knows what will happen. It's honestly about the vibe, you know? I'm creating this world where people can leave all their shit at the door and just experience something intense. It’s not about the shock factor for the sake of it; it’s about making people feel something.

I remember this story about a magician. He had a stunt where he’d invite someone from the crowd to come up and punch him in the stomach. He’d brace himself for it, like he could take anything - his abs were so solid, no one could hurt him. But then, one day, after the show, someone caught him off-guard backstage and just punched him... and he died. I don’t even know if it’s true, but it stuck with me. It made me think, what if everything I’m doing is leading up to that?

GATA: Growing up did you have a direct inspiration?

Orion: Honestly, it started with my friends in the Bay. My parents both make music too, but it wasn’t until high school that it clicked — I stumbled into these DIY shows, random choirs, street performances. One of the first was this wild block party led by a local rapper who used to babysit me — 300 kids shutting down an intersection, just pure chaos and energy. That was my first taste of real community around music. Since then, I’ve stayed close with a lot of those people. I’m still my friends’ biggest fan.

My mom goes by Liquid Love Drops, and my dad goes by Antenna, sometimes Dumb and Saints. They both make different kinds of electronic music. My dad’s fully committed — he even coined his own genre: Acid Crunk. My mom makes liquid drum and bass and leans more into event production these days. She actually throws these parties called Erotic Second Base.

GATA: What’s a Second Base party?

Orion: I’m not totally sure - something sexual. I think I went to one when I was younger. Back then, I was more reserved and wanted to fit in. But looking back now, I’m like, wait… that was actually kind of sick.

GATA: Do you thrive off the chaotic tour life?

Orion: At first, yeah. I thrived off it. I lived to perform. I didn’t even realize the toll it was taking. Like - I’m still lowkey traumatized from my first time in London.

London was the place I "knew" the most people, at least online. In other cities, I was just couch-hopping with strangers. But in London, I thought I could just wing it. My flight got delayed, and I didn’t know the trains stopped running at a certain hour. I was basically homeless, carrying everything I owned on my back. Tried finding a hotel, everything was booked. So I ended up sleeping in this disabled-access train station bathroom. It had a lock and this long wooden table. I laid all my clothes out on it like a mattress and just crashed there. Somehow woke up exactly in time for the train the next morning.

My whole body was wrecked. From sleeping on wood. From walking for miles, trying to find a place to stay. I was like, “Bro, I need to do something for myself.” Tried finding a gym - nothing. Looked for a sauna -nothing. Finally found this massage spot that also had showers. Perfect, right? I’m like, “I’ll treat myself. Get cleaned up. Get my body right for the show.”

I walk in, and immediately this older lady starts whispering all these sketchy-sounding options. I had no idea what she was saying, just kept asking for a normal massage. She kept pushing. I don’t even wanna get into it, but it just got weird. Whole thing turned into this slippery oil nightmare. Like, one of those “how did I end up here” moments. One of many, honestly.

GATA How did this time in your life to an end?

Orion: I don’t even know how it ended, really. I eventually took a break at my friend Jack’s place. His grandfather was a dentist, and the whole basement was still set up as a dental lab. Every drawer was full of teeth. Thousands of them. I was trying to post some cryptic photos because it was just so insane. I had a little tooth basement setup for a couple months. But that was the only pause in those three years of touring. I was so grateful for it—honestly, I probably wouldn’t have made it through the second half of the run without that break.

Then I moved to Berlin. I got rid of everything. Fully committed. Moved to Europe. Bet everything on getting an artist visa.

I never actually planned to stay in Berlin — I thought I’d get the visa and move to Poland since I had a lot of friends there. But I started seriously seeing my partner, and they were living with one of my friends. It was kind of the perfect setup. So I ended up sticking around.

Berlin has this strange energy. Before I moved, everyone warned me: “Be careful — people get stuck here.” And they’re right. It’s a trap in a way. Flights are cheap, everyone’s always passing through, there’s endless things to do — from raves to spas to little nature getaways. There’s music resources, art grants. I never really took advantage of all that, but it’s there. And you fall into this limbo, like:

“I want to leave, but where would I even go?“

And then there’s the drugs. It’s the most drugged-out place I’ve ever lived. You can get whatever you want delivered to your door in minutes. It’s hard not to get caught in that cycle. I’m grateful my partner had already been there for like seven years. They’d seen all the tropes. They helped me navigate it, and I was able to break out fast. I left in under a year and a half.

We ended up moving to Athens. At a certain point we just looked at each other and were like, “We have to get the fuck out of here.” It was a climax moment. Berlin had become too much - weird social energy, unhealthy routines, the works. Athens felt like paradise in comparison. Instantly lighter. But then life kind of scattered us again. I went back to the U.S. for the first time in a while to see family. Eventually we met back up in Croatia. That’s where I’ve been living recently. I finally got my international driver’s license. So we’ve just been blindly driving around and playing a lot of Minecraft together.

Honestly, we’ve both been through a lot. I’ve moved countries like four times. Did the whole tour thing. Got off drugs. Just... everything. It’s been nonstop.

Before all that, I was actually working as an apartment manager.

GATA: Apartment manager?

Orion: Yeah, kind of like a superintendent. I lived on-site and handled everything—showing the apartments, moving people in, sweeping the halls. There’s the landlord, and then there’s the person they hire to manage the day-to-day so they don’t have to. That was me. I was based in Berkeley, right next to Oakland.

It wasn’t a paid position—it was more like a trade for rent. Which, honestly, was a blessing, considering how wild the rent is out there now. My mom used to pay like $600 a month. But now? A studio can run you $2,000 easy.And the spot I lived in wasn’t even that nice. The heater had plastic melted into it, the windows were busted—but I was showing those same units to students paying $2–3K a month. Sometimes you'd see three or four of them crammed into a single studio. It was nuts.

Living in the Bay right now… it’s hard unless you’ve got some loophole. Either you have hella roommates, a high-paying job, some rent control thing, or you're squatting. The tech industry drove prices up like crazy. A lot of people moved to SF for tech jobs, but even they couldn’t afford to live there—so they moved to Oakland, and that jacked up prices there too. Now you’ve got million-dollar homes in the middle of West Oakland, next to abandoned lots and makeshift truck homes. It’s wild. I had a friend living in a truck house in the middle of all that, and next door was this modern glass house some German architect had built. The contrast is surreal.

Out of everywhere I’ve been in the States, the Bay is the one place I feel proud to be from. It’s got a certain energy that’s hard to find anywhere else. But working as an apartment manager there was this weird limbo. I was grateful, I had free rent in a place where most people are drowning in housing costs. But then I started having to turn down opportunities abroad. I’d be like, damn, I can’t leave because I have to be here on Friday to take the trash out.

It got to the point where it made more sense—financially and creatively—to be homeless and traveling than to stay tied down just for the free rent. So I sold most of my stuff, put the rest in storage, and bounced.

GATA: So Croatia… How does stability feel, after being so evasive of it?

Orion: I’m in Dubrovnik. It’s on the southern tip of the country, kind of tucked away in this weird little corner. If you imagine Italy on one side of the Adriatic, then you’ve got this bay, and on the other side is Croatia. Dubrovnik is almost cut off from the rest of the country—Bosnia’s right there, Montenegro, Serbia further up. It’s kind of its own thing. It’s a beach town, really beautiful, but I moved there right after the tourist season ended. So I haven’t actually experienced it during peak summer, when it’s alive and full of people. Since I arrived, it’s been completely empty. Like, full-on ghost town. Honestly, that’s what I love about it. It almost feels like you’re walking around the set of a musical or something—quiet, surreal, cinematic.

I’ve been easing back into the rhythm. I found a studio out there and have been filming a bunch of videos, which has been really fun. I even got an international driver’s license, so I’ve been just driving through the Balkans—places I hadn’t seen before. Like, that southern stretch of Eastern Europe. I’ve been kind of blindly country-hopping and shooting videos along the way, and that’s been super inspiring. Definitely helped me get back into writing again.

It’s the first time I’ve had real stability in a while.I want it to last. Definitely. But I won’t lie — there’s still a part of me that craves chaos. I go crazy without it. But now I’m more interested in meditative chaos. Like, routine and peace, but with some sparks of unpredictability. I’m trying to find zen inside the madness.

But eventually, I start to feel too comfortable. And when I get too comfortable, I stagnate. So I always need something to break the rhythm. Shake things up a bit.

GATA: Do you have a character from mythology you relate to?

Orion: I feel like we’re all just weird amalgamations of the stuff we grew up watching or reading. Like I look back on old animations or characters I was drawn to, and I’m like damn, that makes so much sense now. All the dualities. The contradictions. It’s like you start recognizing parts of yourself in them without even realizing it.

My name Orion is the hunter from mythology. His whole story was that he was this unbeatable force, right? Like he could conquer anything, hunt any beast, invincible. But in the end, he dies from stepping on a baby scorpion. This tiny thing takes him out.

That always stuck with me. Because I relate to that. Like a lot of people, I don’t always recognize my limits. I think I can handle everything. The invincible mindset. So I got this shitty little baby scorpion tattooed on my ankle — the same spot where Orion got stung in the myth. Just to remind myself: stay humble, stay grounded. Watch your heel, you know?