Two and a half years ago, Larissa Tarasoff stumbled onto Lydia's open stage for a mic check and has been waiting ever since for audiences everywhere to realize she's been making it up as she goes along. On good days she's magma; bubbling and bursting, spitting fire and ash into the atmosphere. On bad days, she's a world-weary mourner in dinosaur skin and lead rain boots. But she is always a love-struck dreamer with a belly full of wanderlust and cheap beer.
Larissa has blundered and bled her way through performances at the University of Saskatchewan Student Union's Concert for Consent, Ness Creek Music Festival, Lugo, Rosebuds Burlesque Club, Shakespeare on the Saskatchewan, Thigh High Theater's Our Four Walls, and most recently took home a fancy first place trophy at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Words with the Saskatoon Slam Team. These days, she lays footprints into Ontarian soil. If feminism could drop acid and birth a love child with biochemistry, that baby and Larissa would braid each other's hair at sleepovers.