Burials

by Raine Holtz

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1.
Pallbearers 06:50
2.
Departure 07:30
And the sun paled the morning I called the doctor, shying from behind the milky clouds. I squinted to see, but I could no longer trust the eyes, watching the stray phantasms released from the dreams I conjured the night before. They walked among us that day. And I looked her upon the bed, half-drunken in a sleepless tiredness, and how I doted upon her gentleness, a delicacy at the footsteps of doom. I have washed my hands in my tears, harvesting them from my face; and though I could somewhat conceal my fain desire, I blew my nose and blood ran gushing down like a river of fire. Hollering uncontrollably at the sight of these things, and how much my love would, oddly still, find a measure of kindness in the face of such insurmountable torment. There is the one that forgives, and the one that forgets. And there is the one that rages, and takes revenge, and stiches remorse on the cloak of death. And that is the one that neither forgives nor forgets, and that one is all but me. And upon my head a jewel of red light, seen plain from the southern skies. All too neatly put in the winter dome, a queen of gall on her throne. And I called upon them to join in, and bring flowers from their lands. And down below the stairs, and across the pond and by the street the sound of church bells went weak, suspended in the wetly, coming breeze. And they ceased when the doctor came, and I was a spent storm in clouded forms. Take her in, place her good. My arms are cradles of dirty, mossy wood. Prick her nice, clean and done; minutes spilled one by one. Her lovely head, the loveliest of all heads, crowned in encircling, faint stars. She swallowed meekly twice and was all but gone. And when I cried inconsolably upon her back, I wet the buds and forth they spewed their shades of grief. And there in the hills in the outskirts of town I went for my business in solemness. There in a place I have never been before I put her in. The sleek female cat, blue-eyed and aloof, rests meagerly inside her tiny, female grave. And though the soil grips her lovely bones, the mood that takes us is a sign of her still, and the bane of a grave shan't separate. And grief is a cat that perches upon some tall cupboard. It lies still and quiet, and all but forgotten, until it rears its head to look down. And when you look up, it rains for a while. And then it passes. And then it's gone.
3.
Penitence 09:20
The yellow-tinged light flickering from inside the copper lamp sheared the gloom and opened through a path on the graveled land. Slick as shadows the rabbits treaded along the stone-gray road, companions to the lonesome baby bones, selenic, entombed. Somewhere lost in the dreary woods lies the stillest of all lakes. Its shrouded waters veined from the icy streams of mountains that bore their fate. Hidden nearly a mile below the ear-shattering pressure a womb was trapped, a promise that rang from another universe, where all things our nature prevents have a chance to be. Its meaty walls smelled of blood and dirt, chained to the bottom with arteries and veins. Swollen like a ripe fruit, painful and red, in watchful wait. Anxious for the time of birth, alas it shall never deliver, for his way is shut from the seas of the Moon above, and right there at the very detail of the landscape, there is the shape of him: a stroke of paint, a sentence written in dry ink. I know you all too well, boy, from the moon-shaped face, the rabbit-white skin, the nebula in your eyes. Every dream you haunt me, covered in a shroud and bearing chains, reminding me of a promise I am unable to keep. And like an oyster clasped tightly to my ear, I hear the crashing waves undulating down to your stillborn self. The road from the Moon into the body inside the womb is shadowed to us all. Lovers come and lovers go: this one has green eyes like you. Lovers went and dusted away, and you crossed your fists and stayed. And countless lovers you sent my way, with your etiolated, milky bones. Yet no man could force the links of your womb-tomb and curse you into the world. Not out of love your freckled muzzle should come to be, and that is precisely the penance that obliged me to this song. My body was carved out from the shapes that could only ever dream of you. And I am a woman only by will, and I am sorry I cannot will you. I own no uterus, I have only ribs to spare, and ribs won't birth you. Baby, listen to the unwavering love notes I send you, coursing in the air to your tidy bunny pen. Frown not, for the greatest act of love I can make is to let you trapped below the ground. Baby, breathe in the waters of the lake, until all your hollering is drowned and I cannot hear you. Baby, whatever lies in store for me, you are the crosses of my Ts, the feathering around my nails and the silence that entails. Baby, I sing this song as penitence for the rest of my days. You can only run ever so far from me.
4.
Pando 07:00
O Pando, if I could muster a wish from the shattered bits of me, I would that I could grow as you do, softly above the soil. That even in my old age I could find ways to push up trunks, but now there is nothing I can do but to sit and die with you. Trembling Giant, I read words below the face of your leaves, quaking dearly and yellowing at the mercy of the world. It ages with you, and I grow old like you, and I left youth behind. Streched like your white bark, I weirldy decompose. When will we flower again? I am so exhausted. Could you wait a little longer? I am not quite ready for this world.
5.
Hex 05:05
Fathers would tell About an extraneous spell That came ringing by the doorbell That awful and tolling death-knell It keeps tolling and tolling And ringing, unfolding I'm every father's cautionary tale Hold up your charm And try to do no harm When he pulls you fast by your comely arm To bring you into his family's farm He should know better than this The boy-like tinge faded upon her kiss I'm every nightmare that makes you grow pale The bell of that spell Keeps ringing near me And whenever I cross his unenchanted well It was you that locked me here with your key Well I'm a wry maid A confounding charade A female with strange, taunting arts displayed Or was it a female they called me, dismayed When the marred my limbs around Spread out piece by piece across the town The fey boy who hides behind a girl veil Pushed me downstairs Chopped me in squares When he found out what made me so rare No-one should fall for a monster so fair Forever my parts are sown in the field But where my heart lies no man there would yield From beneath the almond tree issues my wail
6.
Mygale 06:00
Slow, nice and slow Ever slowly must you rise from the plié Adagio, lift the comely leg Alas, the poor, sickled foot Well now the lithe limb limps lowly From the breaking of my old bone Laden with a gruesome, burdening ache Broken in two places: I broke it there for you And down, where the wind stirs the waters Where the spiders craft their endless, patient homes Numinous, stringed lyre-homes Our tryst concealed from all Come and find my broken leg That never shall turn in satin again Subdue the raging of your heart Nice and slow, press against me Telling me of your dread Well do tell me all about it, dear "Tarantulas feed upon their lovers" I didn't break my bone for this I spun; I whipped As best as my twirling could sway Why do you recoil? My feathers are not black Poecilotheria; Grammostola Acanthoscurria; Haplocosmia I bear none of those names Allay your learned phobia And wade gently and quietly Into these graceful arms I do not lie; I do not sting I love, and love still Despite everything I believe what everyone tells me I love still, despite everything
7.
Mina 05:35
Mina Estes são os dias que tivemos. Saia das cobertas, venha ver o sol. Eu mal estive com você, Na busca insaciável dos anos Em que falhei em ver que você Era tudo que me bastava Eu te vi crescer e trocar de cor E no detalhe das lembranças Lá estava você, quieta Em aguardo, para dormir em paz. E dos segredos do universo Do pó das arcadas estelares Circundava a promessa De que eu iria te encontrar. E você esperou a hora escura Para se unir a mim E com o verbo felino Me ensinar o que eu jamais entendi. Estes são os dias que tivemos, E estes são agora os dias de saudade. E no calor do meu abraço Se desfizeram os seus amáveis, frágeis, Pobres ossos, tão queridos por mim. E tudo que eu sei, Tudo que eu tive ou cultivei, Tudo que eu vi passar e arruinei Está agora diante de você. E se eu pudesse voltar Aos dias mais simplórios Isto eu diria a você: Saia das cobertas, venha ver o sol. (Deita no túmulo, Aguarda o meu chegar.)
8.
Dakhma 04:00

about

Raine Holtz has finally concluded her work with the solo act Through Waves. Yet that doesn't mean she is no longer releasing her strange, mysterious music: bringing along her signature hurdy-gurdy, harp, and distinct voice, she now shares with the world the first album released under her own name: BURIALS.

________________________________________________________

Raine Holtz finalmente concluiu seu trabalho com o ato solo Through Waves. No entanto, isto não significa que ela não lançará mais de sua estranha e misteriosa música: trazendo sua tradicional viela de roda, harpa e distinta voz, ela agora compartilha com o mundo seu primeiro álbum sob seu próprio nome: BURIALS.

credits

released March 20, 2020

Burials was written, composed, performed, designed and produced, as well as recorded and engineered by Raine Holtz at her home studio in Curitiba, Brazil, during Dec 2018 and May 2019. Final master happened in January 2020.

Additional violins on "Hex" arranged and performed by Rique Meirelles, recorded by Sidney Sohn at Locomotiva Estudio in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Photos of Raine Holtz taken by Jennyfer Berté in January 2020. Makeup by Marcela Dake.
Artwork created by Raine Holtz. Additional photographs are stock images, with exception of "Pallbearers" and "Hex" booklet pages, taken by Raine Holtz.

Raine Holtz would like to thank Anaïz Dessartre, Jennyfer Loesch, Marcela Dake and Rique Meirelles, without whom the release of this album would not be possible. Their talents, insights and disposition are much appreciated, and blessed.

Burials is dedicated to the memory of Mina.

HR01. Released by Raine Holtz, 2020.

© & ℗ Raine Holtz 2020. www.raineholtz.com

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Raine Holtz PR, Brazil

Raine Holtz is a brazilian vielleuse, the artist behind solo act Through Waves. She now creates music under her own name, mixing world-fusion, darkwave, folk and hurdy-gurdy mastery with her very own sad-girl magic.

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