The Hammock Papers: Cocteau Twins

Showing posts with label Cocteau Twins. Show all posts

13 January 2026

Released.

Cocteau Twins released The Pink Opaque on this day in 1986.

"Wax and Wane"...

Thank you, Michelle.

17 February 2025

Cocteau Twins, "Millimillenary"

04 January 2025

Happy Birthday, Guthrie

Robin Guthrie was born on this day 1962.

Cocteau Twins, "Caroline's Fingers" (4:42) ...

19 January 2024

Cocteau Twins, "From the Flagstones"

Performed forty years ago, this week ...

Thank you, Michelle.

05 February 2023

05 May 2022

29 August 2021

Happy Birthday, Fraser

Elizabeth Fraser was born on this day in 1958.

Cocteau Twins, "Pandora" ...

29 July 2021

Time.

A garland, quick, I’m dying!

Weave it now, sing and moan and sing!

For shadows my throat are clouding

and again the January light comes in.

Trembling bushes and the air of stars

lie between your love and mine,

a dense mass of anemones picks up

an entire year with a muffled moan.

Revel in the open country of my wound,

break apart its reeds and delicate rivulets,

drink from my thigh my pouring blood.

But be quick! And then, together entwined,

with love-broken mouths and frayed souls

time will find us utterly destroyed.

Federico Garcia Lorca

02 February 2021

Cocteau Twins, "From the Flagstones"

29 August 2020

Happy Birthday, Fraser

Elizabeth Fraser was born on this day in 1963.

Cocteau Twins, "The Spangle Maker" ...

06 April 2020

15 January 2019

Bath.

Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons, and you will find that it is to the soul what the water bath is to the body.

Oliver Wendell Holmes

10 January 2019

Cocteau Twins, "The Spangle Maker"

16 August 2018

11 January 2018

Cocteau Twins, "Pearly-Dewdrops Drops"

BARRY HINES

"That's why it makes me mad when I take her out and I'll hear somebody say, 'Look, there's Billy Casper there wi' his pet hawk. I could shout at 'em; it's not a pet, Sir, hawks are not pets. Or when folks stop me and say, 'Is it tame?' Is it heck tame, it's trained that's all. It's fierce, and it's wild, an' it's not bothered about anybody, not even about me, right. And that's why it's great.Look, there's Billy Casper there wi' his pet hawk.' I could shout at 'em. It's not a pet, Sir. Hawks are not pets. Or when folks stop me and say, 'Is it tame?' Is it heck tame, it's trained, that's all. It's fierce, and it's wild, an' it's not bothered about anybody, not even about me right. And that's why it's great." (A Kestrel for a Knave)

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART

"When I am, as it were, completely myself, entirely alone and of good cheer – say travelling in a carriage or walking after a good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep – it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and most abundantly. Whence, and how, they come I know not ; nor can I force them. Those ideas that please me I retain in memory and am accustomed, as I have been told, to hum them to myself. If I continue in this way, it soon occurs to me how I may turn this dainty morsel to account, so as to make a good dish of it. That is to say, agreeable to the rules of counterpoint, to the peculiarities of various instruments etc. All this fires my soul, and, provided I am not disturbed, my subject enlarges itself, becomes methodised, and defined, and the whole, though it be long, stands almost complete and finished in my mind, so that I can survey it like a fine picture or a beautiful statue at a glance. Nor do I hear in my imagination the parts successively, but I hear them, as it were, all at once. What a delight this is, I cannot tell."

WALT WHITMAN

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering. I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world. The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk. I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags. I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles. You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.

MARCUS AURELIUS

"Is your cucumber bitter? Throw it away. Are there briars in your path? Turn aside. That is enough. Do not go on and say, 'Why were things of this sort ever brought into this world?' neither intolerable nor everlasting - if thou bearest in mind that it has its limits, and if thou addest nothing to it in imagination. Pain is either an evil to the body (then let the body say what it thinks of it!)-or to the soul. But it is in the power of the soul to maintain its own serenity and tranquility."

VINCENT van GOGH

"What am I in the eyes of most people? A nonentity or an oddity or a disagreeable person — someone who has and will have no position in society, in short a little lower than the lowest. Very well — assuming that everything is indeed like that, then through my work I’d like to show what there is in the heart of such an oddity, such a nobody. This is my ambition, which is based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Even though I’m often in a mess, inside me there’s still a calm, pure harmony and music. In the poorest little house, in the filthiest corner, I see paintings or drawings. And my mind turns in that direction as if with an irresistible urge. As time passes, other things are increasingly excluded, and the more they are the faster my eyes see the picturesque. Art demands persistent work, work in spite of everything, and unceasing observation."