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Since the fan-sphere has been talking about Hannibal, I thought I’d repost these truly surreal tableau.  Definitely not the Barbie you remember!

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Blame Didion.  She started this on her website.   I’ve been searching high and low for something truly surreal, and she gets it in one.  Just *had* to Google this.  It turns out to be inspired by artist Mariel Clayton.  When she photographs Barbie and family, she envisions something a bit…er… different.  (Click all the links in all the articles to see the catalog. Some aren’t even gory or kinky.)

This is so macabre and delightfully twisted, I just had to share.  I’m having a great time dreaming up theories for the evil deeds.

“Play nice with daddy!”

 

“Evian, not Perrier, mommy!”

Thanks Didion.

 

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OT: My Guy David Tennant

Of course you all know that Richard Armitage is just the bit on the side.  David Tennant is my main attraction.  I discovered him in 2006 when he played the lead in Doctor Who.  I didn’t even like him for three whole episodes and then it dawned that this man could really act.  He went on to become the most popular Doctor ever (which takes some doing) and beloved enough to be called “a national treasure.”  I crossed the pond to see his acclaimed “Hamlet,” and popular “Much Ado About Nothing” where I confirmed that DT really is a special talent.  (These shows are available for digital download; you should really watch.)  His latest popular series is “Broadchurch.”  Coworkers and fans like remark that he’s a genuinely nice caring person.  I observed the same thing especially when he dealt with his small fans.  (He was solicitous of me when I got pushed into a barricade by a rambunctious crowd, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.)  The man is simply a peach.  *Squee* *Cough*D

Anyway, DT received a Special Recognition Award at the National Television Awards.  He’s always been popular at the NTA’s; why not give him another?  Amazingly they managed to keep it a total secret from him.  So here is the presentation and his acceptance speech.

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We’ve almost finished building the scenery for The Snow Queen production this weekend.  More work tomorrow.  Sleep seems like a good idea.

Apropos of nothing, I was searching for one of my favorite pics of Guy tied up (how many times does that happen anyway) and came across this one.  Kind of looks like a scene from Season 4 –  The Sir Guy of Gisborne Show.  Televised after the family hour time slot, naturally. Really late.   Really really late.

Guy nightmareep6_0013

Guy is either having a bad nightmare or a lovely time. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com

 

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dominoes[The 4th anniversary of my “accidental” blog passed on December 28th.  It was a very change filled interesting year to say the least.  Surprising of all was how Real Life and fandom collided in such an unexpected way.  I wrote this piece several months ago, thinking I would use it to conclude a series about The Crucible.  However in a way it summarizes the mishmash of thoughts inspired over the past year. It’s a good time to share it now.]

I spent last night with a friend discussing how a series of events have been clicking into place, one after other, like dominoes falling, hitting the next one and the next, cascading down the line as they needed to.  She suggested that the dominoes may always have been there, waiting for the right angle for me to see them – pointing the way to what I needed.  I’d bought the tickets to see The Crucible on September 10th and 11th, knowing I’d probably not be able to go.  For months, I said I’d go only if A, B, and C happened – in order by September 5th.   As time went on, chances grew slimmer and slimmer.  But then amazing things happened.

I thought it started in June with a friend rushing over to help sort my financial mess.  Click.  All caused by my illness and subsequent retirement.  Click click.  Calling the realtor I’d consulted the year before who immediately leaped in the cash breach of fixing up the condo. Click. Rousing out of my inertia to whip the place into shape (no small feat). Click.  Signing the listing agreement and going live in 12 days. Click.  Finding a seller in just 11 days.  Click.  Being housed and supported by incredible friends pending the move and closing.  Click.  Weathering a bumpy process but finally closing on September 5th. Click. Booking a flight, room and flying to London in three days flat.  Click. Moving about town despite being in physically bad shape. Click.

All to see a play right?

Wrong.

Picture or it didn't happen.  Richard Armitage and me.  92nd ST Y, NYC.

Picture or it didn’t happen. Richard Armitage and me. 92nd ST Y, NYC.

That wasn’t the big domino.  To explain I’ll have to back up – to my childhood.  Amidst all the dysfunctional drama, I came away feeling like I didn’t matter, as if I were invisible.  Of course as an adult (and with lots of therapy), I understood it wasn’t true but the realization never sank past a superficial level.  That critical inner voice always whispered otherwise; and I had to keep correcting that tape again and again.  This explains why I was so disconcerted at the Proust cast party when Richard Armitage kept watching me and Zan.  After all, how could my crush display any curiosity towards me? I felt – naked – in my glaring visibility. His glances said: I see you.  Who are you?  Subconsciously, it confused me that he would think I mattered enough to inspire curiosity.

After the party, the inner voice returned, brushing the episode aside: he just wondered what the hell both of us were doing there. Who was I after all.  Running up to London, I half-feared he might remember me.  He’d seen me long enough at the party. What if he knew I was *gasp* a fan? (After all, if your crush remembers you’re a fan, it’s hard to really deny it, ya know?). Oh no, they said. He meets hundreds of people. You’re good.  So part of me wanted to be safe in my perceived invisibility.  Seems a bit ridiculous, but this is what I told myself.

During the first two stage doors, he was still too emotionally enmeshed in his role to interact fully with the fans. A veil existed between him and us.  He kept his head down, uttered thanks somewhat robot-like, and scrawled his autograph.  However after the last performance, he dropped the character and was fully present. I observed him animatedly replying to fans but not speaking first.

I expected maybe a fleeting eye contact and a signature.  Instead, he glanced at me fleetingly, look down, began to write, looked back up at me and said: hello.  And waited for me to answer.

I’m sure that inner voice died of shock.  Surely in that moment, my mind was a void.  I thought nothing, heard nothing, and saw only two blue eyes staring at me, judiang in the flesh dressed in a black coat standing on a small sidewalk outside a London theater, recognized, awaiting a simple reply. I see you. I remember you.  Hi there.  I reflexively answered hello back. And it was over.  I turned to my grinning London friend.  “Why didn’t you tell me he’d recognize me?” I exclaimed.  “Because, I knew he would,” she answered, as if to say: why not – you needed that to happen.

So me, the anti-fangurl, went to London and what I unwittingly got from the crush himself was – inarguable validation.  It’s pretty hard to think I’m invisible and don’t matter when the crush somehow remembers me months later, does a double-take and speaks first.  I haven’t heard that particular inner voice since. Click.

Don’t forget, my friend said, that couldn’t have happened had not been for the Proust party.  Click.

So after years of therapy, I learned a final lesson in accepting my value as a person.  And it makes it easier to accept others’ good estimation and opinion of me.

Click.

Dr. G.  was ecstatic.

 

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Sadly at the home under the weather today.  The upside is that I can concentrate on writing.  Since my 4th blogversary passed December 28th, I may have something to share tomorrow.

What’s not to love about this pic of Richard Armitage?  There’s the longer hair, the long side burns, the stubble, the profile, the smile -did I mention the LONGER HAIR? (Call me old school, but he looks better with some hair to soften the angular face.)  Most of all, he’s at work, showing us a bit of the magic.

Enjoy.

Richard Armitage reading Hamlet, Prince of Denmark: A Novel. Courtesy of A.J. Hartley

Richard Armitage reading Hamlet, Prince of Denmark: A Novel. Courtesy of A.J. Hartley

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Just a quickie post.  Have started the volunteer work for my friend and hours are very early and very late.  Still searching for an opportune time to write.  In the meantime, I know what you come here for.

Richard Armitage being the best Guy he knows how. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com

Richard Armitage being the best Guy he knows how. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com

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Serene Sunday: Kyrie

I’m behind in writing again.  While looking for the Catholic hymn “Kyrie,” I came upon this song “Kyrie Eleison” by Mr. Mister.  “Kyrie, eleison” (or “Lord, have mercy”) is a liturgical response of the people to intentions mentioned in the Prayer of the Faithful.  Mr. Mister used the phrase for this 1985 hit.  Even though I’m no longer Christian, it’s spiritual message somehow strikes a chord.

Kýrie, eléison
Kýrie, eléison
Kýrie

The wind blows hard against this mountainside
Across the sea into my soul
It reaches into where I cannot hide
Setting my feet upon the road

My heart is old, it holds my memories
My body burns a gem-like flame
Somewhere between the soul and soft machine
Is where I find myself again

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow?
Kýrie, eléison
On a highway in the light

When I was young, I thought of growing old
Of what my life would mean to me
Would I have followed down my chosen road
Or only wished what I could be

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow?
Kýrie, eléison
On a highway in the light

Whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow?
Kýrie, eléison
On a highway in the light

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel (will you follow?)
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow? (will you follow)
Kýrie, eléison
On a highway in the light

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel (yeah)
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow? (will you follow?)
Kýrie, eléison
On a highway in the light

Kýrie, eléison
Down the road that I must travel (will you follow?)
Kýrie, eléison
Through the darkness of the night

Kýrie, eléison
Where I’m going, will you follow? (will you follow)

Enjoy.

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A western suburb. 12:15PM

The car’s engine hums smoothly.  I nervously clutch the gear, ready to shift into “Reverse” and take a deep breath.

Jodi, my psyche id, grumbles from the back seat. “Did you turn on the heat? It’s still cold in here.”

I pause to fiddle with the controls. “It’ll take time for the engine to warm up.”

Jada, my superego, clears her throat from the passenger side. “How can you be cold? You’re an id.”

Jodi pouts. “Still get cold. I notice we’re all bundled in coats just like Judi’s.”

Quiet One, my ego now called Julie, snickers in the back. “We are Judi.  Just don’t make her more nervous than she already is.”

Jodi sighs.  “I know she hasn’t driven in 20 years!  She just needs to relax and forget that she’s maneuvering two tons of steel out onto the road with other moving tons of steel and reach the movie theater.”

I shrink a little. “Right.”

Julie elbows Jodi.  “Ready when you are.”

Jada clears her throat again.

I shift gears, back out of the space and start making laps around the building ring road to familiarize myself with the controls.

Jada beams. “You’re doing well!”

Jodi leans forward points over my shoulder.  “OMG!”

I nearly stamp on the brakes, looking for an oncoming diesel. “What? WHAT?”

Her surprisingly manicured finger points more. “The windshield is fogging up!”

Can a psyche fog windows?  I was pretty sure I’d stopped breathing.  Pulling over near the meadow, I fiddle some more.  The window defogs.

Jada frowns.  “It’s sunny out.  You should put on some shades.”

Now suddenly aware of the sun, I squint. “Don’t have them with me…”

Jodi tuts.  “We should go back for them.”

I add, frustration rising, “… because I can’t find them!” I stare pointedly in the rear view mirror back at Jodi.

Julie intercedes. “Another time maybe?  We should be getting to the theater.”

I nod nervously, head to the main road and stop at the light.

Jodi sits back and chirps brightly. “Let’s kick it.  I can taste that popcorn now.”

Jada frowns.  “If we’re heading just across this street, shouldn’t we be in the middle lane?”

Uh oh. I peer at the chalky road where salt has whited out the lines. “I think we are.”  It looks like the middle.

The left turn light flashes.  A car behind me honks.

Jodi yelps. “OMG, we’re in the wrong lane!  What will we do?”

I grit my teeth. Can I murder myself – just a little piece?  Was she always this excitable? “There’s nothing I can do.”

Julie suddenly speaks.  “It’s okay.  We’re straddling the line just a little. Just shoot across when you can.”

The light turns green.  I cross the road and head onto the mall’s ring road.

Jada nods encouragingly.  “Nice right turn.”

Jodi is ever helpful.  “Look out, stop sign!”

I grip the wheel.  “I can see the stop signs!”

She’s relentless. “And watch out for that woman walking to that car…”

“She’s forty feet away!”

Jodi takes umbrage. “Well, you don’t have to yell.  You know gals, Judi seems way too stressed.  Say, you’re passing up parking spaces….”

I park in a wide open area and shut off the engine, sagging in relief.   Julie gives me a quiet nod of approval.  “You done good.”

Jada pats my hand and smiles.

Jodi cheers. “Told you we would get here alright.  We’re a team. Now we can see the movie and drive back home.”

I groan, then follow my posse into the cold.

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Richard Armitage from DaMan Magazine

Richard Armitage from DaMan Magazine

Richard Armitage sits at a curious place in his career.  Usually leading actors his age have already been cast in sensitive dramas and romances apparently reserved for the twenty and thirty-something talent.  These actors have already enjoyed the benefits (or pitfalls) of being an international A-lister.  By the early middle-age, caster directors start funneling them into action hero roles in preparation for the slide into secondary character roles. But RA has been a late bloomer in his career; he didn’t breakout on the UK scene until his early 30’s with North & South and was not a recognizable name until Spooks.  The Hobbit trilogy shot him onto the international scene as a potential regular A-lister in his early forties. Casting lightning struck.

Despite what has seemed to be a phenomenal stroke of good luck, let’s not forget that despite RA’s statements implying that he’s not really plotting his career but going where offers take him, he’s still an actor with an actor’s ambitions -he’s plotting his career. (Notice the willingness to do extra Hobbit PR, careful coaching, moving to the US, hiring a dresser, etc.).  He has never been the demure, shy, unambitious, starving artiste some fans have fantasized him to be.

The question now becomes: can he garner a spot in the top tier and buck the trend of middle-age stall out by rising, not falling, in status?  It remains to be seen.  While RA received favorable reviews for The Hobbit, these films still unfortunately don’t enjoy the same critical acclaim in film circles, as evidenced by the anticipated Oscar snub.  However, it did upgrade him from the so called “TV actor” and afforded him more parts from which to choose.  Whatever direction he jumped would have an enormous impact on the future of his career.

Casting lightning struck again when he acted in The Crucible to great reviews under the direction of renown Yael Farber.  This gave him more status and visibility on the international stage. His career is primed for what? More stage work? Films?  Today, it was announced that RA will play a serial killer in NBC’s  Hannibal.  While this was a return to TV, an American show provides high public visibility on the way to the holy grail – an A-list film career.  So, he’s coming full circle again, but with higher stakes.

Back when he was rarely seen and did very little between filming the Hobbit movies, I wondered if he had failed to strike while the iron was hot and that his PR people had fallen down on the job.  Clearly, that’s not been the case.  He and his people have been very carefully and methodically planning and waiting for The Next Big Move instead of taking the first thing to come along.  He’s proving quite adept at the waiting game.  I watch his career now with great interest indeed.  If he continues to play his cards right, he could be touted as The Next Big Thing.

I can see the headline now: 40 Is the New 30.

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honda fitI’m the excited owner of a new car.  Since I still don’t have my new driving glasses, the dealership kindly drove me and Red (yes, she has a name) home.  She’s now resting comfortably in tenants’ parking awaiting her first foray across to the mall to see Selma at the newly reopened, super fancy AMC Theater.  My friends and I went to dinner to celebrate and I’m beyond stuffed, tired too.  The suburban metamorphosis continues.

For certain inquiring minds:

Brand: 2015 Honda Fit

Color: Red, red, red.  Really red.

iPhone/USB/Bluetooth connectivity;  YES

Audio connectivity:  YES

GPS: No

Will talk more tomorrow.

 

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