HOLLOW
“Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams
And our desires.” —Wallace Stevens, “Sunday Morning”
tracks
1. Changeling
2. The Lovers
3. Dreambody
4. Ephemerals
5. Lily
6. Thistledown
7. Limnology I
8. Abscission
9. Limnology II
10. Hollow
11. Plus ça change
12. The Hooked Heart
lyrics
Changeling
When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
I looked like a child, but I was not a child
Dropped in all alone in a land so strange,
So far from home, and left for an age
Changeling, misfit,
Odd-born, time-slipped
Wandering through the days
Wondering if you will ever come my way
I couldn’t believe this turn of fate
A bitter cup was all I could taste
These people aren’t mine, why can’t they see
I’m not their kind, and I’ll never be?
Changeling, misfit,
Odd-born, time-slipped
Wandering through the days
Wondering if you will ever come my way
Through years I have made a life apart
And longed for home with an ache in my heart
In dreams I have found you in a wood
Eternal are the ties of blood
Changeling, misfit,
Odd-born, time-slipped
Wandering through the days
Wondering if you will ever come my way
Vocals, ukulele: Angela Winter
Fender jazz bass, high-strung guitar, Cordoba classical guitar, electric guitar: Tim Carless
The Lovers
Once, so long ago,
We were clothed in time
Life began with death
A swollen fruit between us as a bind
A snake slithered through the brush
In undulating waves
Your skin shivered in the hush
The choice before us one already made
Created from the dust of stars
Eternity was nearly ours
We loved, and for a time,
The whole world was alive
Is alive
The whole world is alive
Is alive
One divides in two
And suffering begins
What’s lost can’t be reduced
And freedom gained is worth the price of truth
Now we both should know
The folly in the fall
And fools surrender most
Emerging from the love that binds us all
Created from the dust of stars
Eternity was nearly ours
We loved, and for a time,
The whole world was alive
Is alive
The whole world is alive
Is alive
Vocals: Angela Winter
Fender jazz bass, electric guitars, Mellotron, DX7 strings: Tim Carless
Dreambody
What rests on the shore cerulean bright?
Sleeps through the day and sings through the night?
Elephantine, yet translucent and light?
It’s waiting
Old as the sea, its lover the moon
Breathing in water, it breathes out the tune
That you dance to each night, yet forget all too soon
It’s waiting
The Dreambody’s waiting
It’s always been waiting
The Dreambody waits at the ocean
You may think all is lost
You may think you’re alone
You may wander a land going farther from home
No matter the distance, wherever you roam
It’s waiting
The Dreambody’s waiting
It’s always been waiting
The Dreambody waits at the ocean
A storm’s drawing close; now’s the time to be brave
You’re not alone; your life it can save
Gathering strength with every wave
It’s waiting
Climb into your vessel and set out to sea
Sometimes you’ll be lost, but you’ll always be free
It’s never abandoned you, listen to me
It’s waiting
The Dreambody’s waiting
It’s always been waiting
The Dreambody waits at the ocean
Vocals: Angela Winter
Fender jazz bass, electric guitars, Mellotron: Tim Carless
Double bass: Robbie Link
Ephemerals
—for Susan
Now that the ice has gone
And the river flows and the day is long
The creatures low have resumed their song
I remember you; you are not quite gone
Everywhere, yet nowhere
You steal inside my heart
Borne on the wings of ephemeral things
Here the worlds are not far apart
Mayfly lives but for a day
Evanescent as it fades away
Efflorescent is the eglantine
Beauty is a thorn, rose upon a spine
Everywhere, yet nowhere
You slip inside my heart
Borne on the wings of ephemeral things
Here the worlds are not far apart
Last night I dreamt you were by my side
As I held a worm and we watched it writhe
Strange this mortal coil, heavy is its ride
Lighter than a thread through the needle’s eye
Everywhere, yet nowhere
You live inside my heart
Borne on the wings of ephemeral things
Here the worlds are not far apart
Vocals, ukulele: Angela Winter
Viola da gamba, cello: Robbie Link
Lily
Lily on the lake
Floating on the water
So few are awake
Most are still in slumber
Rising from a dream
Pushing past the mire
Ancient stories ring
And with them you conspire
Empty of longing
Full of the light of our becoming
Lily still as death
Noble in your silence
Have you seen our birth
Its beauty and its violence?
Have you seen our end
Blazing bright with fire?
Water always wins
In lowliness endures
Empty of promise
Full of the sound of our dissolving
Murky are the depths that lie beneath you
Fishes eat the dying flesh below
A mirrored world, the pattern gnarled
Reflects your light
Silver wing of bee
Body black as midnight
Honeyed is its sting
Stealing from your sunlight
Quietly you rose
And quietly unfurled
Humming now you glow
At the still point of the world
Empty of meaning
Full of the stories that we tell
Vocals: Angela Winter
Guitars, bass, DX7 strings, willow flute: Tim Carless
Viola da gamba, cello: Robbie Link
Thistledown
On a hill far away they are calling, calling
All through the day
I have heard them before with a longing, longing
Sound that held me sway
Hear, hear them now
O’er a cairn made of stone they are floating, floating
’gainst the hills of gray
I have seen them before with a longing, longing
Stole my heart away
See, see them now
White thistledown
Come to me
In a hall of gilt and stone
I was standing quite alone
Then they stole into my dreams
Life’s not only what it seems
In a land far away they are shining, shining
Beckoning to me
I have felt them before with a longing, longing
For a life that’s free
Feel, feel them now
White thistledown
Come to me
Vocals, ukulele: Angela Winter
Electric guitars, Mellotron, DX7: Tim Carless
River in Scotland: as itself
Limnology I and II
Ukulele: Angela Winter
Guitar: Tim Carless
Birds in an oak tree on Shelton Street: as themselves
Abscission
Gone are the days when we were together
In a time evergreen
Gone are the nights barely spent in slumber
Stars so bright in our dreams
The change is so clear
And winter draws near
Here under trees, leaves are falling ’round us
Colors swirl at our feet
Cold is the wind, blowing every memory
Fingers light as a thief
The change is so clear
And winter draws near
The morning bell fades into evensong
And tides that swell must surely ebb
The shadows gather in the corridor
And fire burns its way into an egg
Soon we will stand by the bitter river
Edges hardened to ice
You’ll take my hand; we’ll walk on in silence
Path is turning to white
The change is so clear
And winter draws near
Vocals: Angela Winter
Fender jazz bass, electric guitars, high-strung guitar, DX7 strings: Tim Carless
Hollow
Hollow is the world
Follow what you heard into the hole
That can’t be filled
Here inside a dream
Time’s not what it seems to you and me
Out in the light
Through a passage into places dark and unknown
Past the twisted roots, the walls of mud—
A room inside
On a table lies a feast that’s gone too soon
Hollow is the world
Swallow what is curled inside the hole
That must be fed
Here inside a dream
Offer all that breathes and writhes with joy
Out in the light
We are traveling into places dark and unknown
Past the twisted roots, the walls of mud—
A stone inside
Place your portion with the feast that’s gone too soon
Hollow is the world
Let your dreams unfurl into the hole
Where beauty’s born
Here inside a dream
Life’s not what it seemed to you and me
Out in the light
We are here inside a place once dark and unknown
Pushing past the veil into a secret room inside
And before us lies a feast that’s gone too soon
Someday our prince will come
Bones from his pocket drawn
But until then
Feed the ghosts
Vocals, ukulele: Angela Winter
Guitars: Tim Carless
Plus ça change
The clock it rings, o the clock it rings, o the clock it rings
Your eyes are open wide
The curtain draws the darkness
You feel it deep inside
You wonder where the night went
You can’t recall your dreams
How will you spend your hours?
The sun’s not all it seems
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
À la centre, plus la même chose
A cigarette is a cigarette is a cigarette
A book, a book, a book
The soap is getting thinner
The worm is on the hook
Distracted from distraction
By distraction bittersweet
You thought you were getting somewhere
Press repeat, press repeat, press repeat
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
À la centre, plus la même chose
Time that’s past and time to come
And now, the same
Circling ’round, this spinning world
Be still and you might see the endless game
Caught between past and future
At night begins the haunt
You can never get enough of what
You do not truly want
Outside the stars are shining
Bright fires in skies opaque
Somewhere the day is dawning
Somewhere begins an ache
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose
Plus ça change, plus la même chose
À la centre, plus la même chose
Vocals, ukulele: Angela Winter
Double bass: Robbie Link
The Hooked Heart
The hooked heart cannot breathe
The hooked heart, watch it seethe
It tightens terribly
Frightens all who see
I am circling
You are swimming
In this ocean
No beginning
I’ve a notion
To taste what moves you
Waters darken
Beckon me to you
The hooked heart cannot breathe
The hooked heart, watch it seethe
It tightens terribly
Frightens all who see
I come closer
You seem frantic
Locked in struggle
Most romantic
Chambered puzzle
Hear it beating
Growing louder
Time is fleeting
The hooked heart cannot breathe
The hooked heart, watch it seethe
It tightens terribly
Frightens all who see
Steel barbs, sharp hooks
Slip in, catch so tight
Pierced, caught, gasping for breath
In the air nothing feels right
Vocals: Angela Winter
Bodhran, tympanum, daf, shaker, Dizzy Gillespie’s drum: Brad Porter
thanks
deep gratitude for
THE ANGEL—Jim Dykes, anam cara who provided the seed loan for this recording project and gave wholehearted support along the way—my love to you always.
THE BARRED OWL—Who arrived in the dead of winter with uncanny lessons, a new language, and winged encouragement. Her familiar on the cover was photographed and kindly shared by Dennis Buchner and transformed by design conjurer Alyson Plante.
SKULLS AND SNAKES—Made possible by Jeff Humphries, hellbender-whisperer, music lover, and herpetologist at the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, and by Brian O’Shea and John Gerwin, ornithologists at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences.
STARS—Science is sexy, NASA is cool, long live the public domain. Many thanks to Max McKinnon for generously sharing composite space images.
STONES—Photoshoot location arranged with the kind assistance of Annie P. Howell and Keith Nealson of the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources, Guy Gaster of the North Carolina Film Office, as well as a secret agent and time lord (you know who you are).
UKULELES—Made by the geniuses at KoAloha; graciously set up and delivered by Joel, Zach, and the angels of The Ukulele Site. Angela’s visit to the North Shore of O’ahu made possible by the generosity and aloha of Katie Leiva and Bryan Bender. Ukulele dreams fueled by Santa Cruz siren Janet Croteau, Scottish sorcerer Rob MacKillop, and the spirits of the wee, lute-like instruments at hand.
DIVINATION AND RITUALS—Oracular guidance, ancestral wisdom, and spiritual homework provided by Malidoma Somé, shaman, writer, and teacher of the finest caliber. I remain deeply grateful for your work in this world and so many others.
INSPIRATION—Thanks to: Genie Zeiger for her fierce, unstinting encouragement to quit a full-time dream job to make time for dreaming a musical new life into being; Sy Safransky for his unwavering dedication to this beautiful, broken world, the human condition, and the heart; Krista Bremer for the mirror and the example; Barbara Cudmore for John O’Donohue’s writing on beauty; Christopher Bursk for the lesson of the bells; Meredith Monk for encouragement at a pivotal time; Wallace Stevens, Robin Fulton Macpherson, Stéphane Mallarmé, Inger Christensen, T. S. Eliot, Tomas Tranströmer, Emily Dickinson, and Steve Kowit for poetic flight; and David Greenwalt for nudging this project into being.
FISHERY—Catch-and-release lessons given by Cris Williamson, who showed me I could write songs without much ado: “Writing a song is a simple and beautiful event, like making a pie. No more, no less.”
CORE TEAM—For strength building and support, thanks to true teachers Sarah Honer of Spira Pilates, Graham Williams of Iyengar Yoga Center of Raleigh, and Joyce Young of Advanced Wellness Systems.
EMO SQUAD—Deb Heinrich, Michelle Johnson, Alyson Plante, Alison Luterman, Jim Dykes, Jasmine Girard, Beth Tanner, Tim McKee, Tim Carless, and Brent Winter: I bow before you in gratitude for seeing me through the darkest times. Marc Smirnoff, I remain grateful for your kindness (and tissues) in a moment of turmoil. Robbie Link, you saved me with your loving reminder to always return to the music, no matter what comes.
HOME STAR CREW—Big love to the Halloway family, Jasmine Girard, Beth Tanner, John Kessel, Therese Fowler, Dave Eiselman, Leigh Lassiter, Matt and Michelle Jordy, Crystal Bright, Amanda Lindsey, Michelle Temple, Rob DiMauro, Dylan Alexzander Turner, Marc Allen, the colorfully delicious wildlings at the Station’s Monday night open mic, the quietly awesome light-workers at The Sun magazine, the generous souls at the Station, Venable Bistro, and B-Side Lounge, and my open-hearted neighbors and friends in the quirky, beautiful town of Carrboro.
SIRENS—Love and gratitude to Deb Heinrich, Katie Leiva, Emily Miller Washburn, Kristin Becker, Paige Williams, Denise Nixon, Jen DeMik, Jill Strong Carico, Kim Lathrop Kredich, and the silver-voiced, big-hearted women of Duke University’s Out of the Blue—all of you through all of the years. You’ve changed my life for the better, loves. Thanks is not enough.
WITCHERY—Adoration to the goddesses in my circle (you know who you are); thank you for your care, listening, and magic. Props to intuitives Nathaniel Glosson, Jane Madey, and Barbara Cudmore for your insights and guidance. Namaste to the Mountain spirit, the River spirit, the spirits of Nature, the Dreambody, the thistledown, the ancestors, and the teachers in my closet. Love to Simon (aka Little Bug), the cat who hangs out with owls. Gratitude to buckeye butterflies and the birds who visit my garden. Always and forever, birds inspire me most.
SERAPHIM—Many late-breaking thanks to Lynn and Dave Robinson, Kristin and Peter Becker, and Emily Miller Washburn for your generous donations to the cause, which helped me cross the finish line. I am deeply thankful for your love and support.
VISUALIZATIONS—Deep respect, admiration, and thanks to: Alyson Plante for the dreamy art direction, cover design, and creative visual contributions—you are OMG amazing; Michael Banks for the otherworldly cover painting to appear on a future project—you inspire me on so many levels; Jamie Robbins for your keen eye and intrepid, transformational photography; Angela Hugghins for your acute perception, impeccable artistry, and sly humor; Bryan Bender for your photographic chops, time, and love; Andy Welch for the magical live-show photographs—how very kind of you, sir; and the beautiful, talented Polly Schattel and Emily Vanaman for offering to collaborate on music videos.
MUSICS—Thanks to rock star and twindred Angela Faye Martin for connecting me with the Englishman and also for the sparkledust. All due respect and appreciation to Nick Petersen of Track and Field for the beautiful demo that got this project rolling. Many thanks to the excellent musicians who performed on Hollow: Brad Porter, Robbie Link, and Tim Carless—I am grateful to you for helping me bring these songs to the wider world. Finally, my deepest gratitude to my producer, Tim Carless. Thank you for believing in me and my music, for your gorgeous creative contributions, and for sending my dreams through a ring modulator. Your wizardry made this album possible. Much love, dear friend.
LOVE—Heartfelt thanks to the family I was born into, especially Alyson for your amazing creativity and generosity—I’m so happy that we play together now. I am deeply grateful for the family I’ve chosen, particularly Brent, who was by my side for the whole story, protecting me from weregoats and occasionally saying, “Get up, Trinity. Just get up.” Man of my heart, I am so thankful for this life with you. I will always be on your adventure team.
YOU—Many thanks to you, the listener (and perhaps a fellow changeling). May these songs bring you peace, flow, and momentum on your path. Courage. We have much work before us.
“If we go forward, we die; if we go backward, we die. So let’s go forward and die.”
—African proverb, quoted by Malidoma Somé
credits
released September 20, 2018
PRODUCTION—Produced, engineered, and mixed by Tim Carless; mastered by Mark Dyke
PUBLISHING—All songs written and published by Angela Winter (ASCAP)
PERFORMANCES—Vocals and ukulele by Angela Winter; electric, acoustic, and classical guitars, Fender jazz bass, Mellotron, DX7 strings, and willow flute by Tim Carless; viola da gamba, cello, and double bass by Robbie Link; percussion by Brad Porter
ARRANGEMENTS—All songs arranged by Tim Carless with Angela Winter, except “Ephemerals,” arranged by Robbie Link and Angela Winter
COVER AND ART DESIGN—Alyson Plante, Plante Creative Studio, Richmond, VA
COVER PHOTOS—Barred owl skull photo by Brian O’Shea (Collections Manager for Ornithology) and John Gerwin (Research Curator, Ornithology), North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences; barred owl photo by Dennis Buchner on Unsplash; space background composite image originals by Max McKinnon on Unsplash and NASA public domain
PROMO PHOTOS OF ANGELA—Jamie Robbins, JME Photography, Raleigh, NC
STYLING, HEADDRESS, AND MAKEUP—Angela Hugghins, Monarch Brow and Facial Studio, Carrboro, NC
GOWN—Aakasha, Sofia, Bulgaria
PHOTOSHOOT PRODUCTION—Angela Winter
WEBSITE—angelawinter.com
Please send letters, stories, fortune cookies, bells, treasure maps, and drawings to: Winter Creative Studio, 304 W. Weaver St. Suite 230, Carrboro, NC 27510, USA
dedicated to the barred owl who saw me through the portal
© ℗ 2018 Angela Winter, all rights reserved