Since this is Guy Day, I’ve been searching for the right Guy pic but there are so many lovely ones. How is a woman to choose? Then I thought of RA’s “I’m not a movie star,” comment (that’s okay, sweetie) and this pic drew my attention:
Richard Armitage as Sir Guy of Gisborne hears the approaching rumble of fangirls. You’re a movie star, babe. Courtesy of mabelalexa.tumblr.com
There’s something about the lighting here. The almost sepia tone reminds me of the Technicolor movies of old featuring movie stars such as Errol Flynn. You can imagine how RA would have looked back in the day. Personally, stars then tended to have more unique, striking features than today’s cookie cutter variety. The face, followed by the voice naturally, was everything.
Here is the black and white version:
Guy, finding himself in an Errol Flynn swashbuckler, realizes he can go native. Sorry Marian.
See any difference? Oh dear, not a bit of snark can I squeeze out while gazing at Richard Armitage (and Sir Guy), on the brink of his own movie stardom. I feel womanly vapors coming on and must have a lie down. No, seriously. The fumes muck up my sinuses something fierce.
I lie on my bed replaying the same game of Spider Solitaire on the iPhone. Their voices rise and fall in the next room. My personality, id Jada, superego Jodi, and ego Quiet One have been warring since it arrived. I’m resolutely indifferent. Let them sort it.
Patty lies with head on paws beside me, just within reach. She watches me intently, but I ignore her.
My fingers tap the screen, undoing moves. I’m determined not to break my winning streak; a superstitious dread of the probable deadlock has taken hold. I’ve never been superstitious. Is this a new thing?
I sense another presence beside us but still don’t look up. Jodi’s voice rises again as she angrily berates Jada, her voice cracking with emotion. Jada murmurs calming words. Happy go lucky Jodi? This doesn’t bode well. The silence stretches as the visitor waits patiently for my acknowledgment. I sigh, knowing I can’t win.
I glance finally at Quiet One. She sits regarding me, her face unreadable. Her kimono has changed from a colorful motif to a disturbing plain gray. Suddenly, I feel inexplicably small. Not able to hold her gaze, I stare at the small screen in confusion.
Quiet One arm reaches across me; clearly she’s petting Patty.
She says simply, “she’s afraid of losing her freedom.”
Patty sighs.
My eyes closed as if to blot out everything. Jada has been upset since I refused to read the postcard they received. I resent her histrionics. I’m afraid too; I dont want any message from him either. I imagine Winston returning, running as fast as his doggy legs will carry him. Sending a postcard to make sure I wouldn’t miss his arrival, the little bastard.
Quiet One pauses and says with a hint of finality in her voice, “we can’t do this without you.”
I sigh, resigned. Indeed, they can’t. Progress will stall until I accept my fears. What if Winston comes back?
Party sits up. She has the postcard in her mouth. Finally, I reach for it.
It starts, “hi” in dark crayon. This isn’t Winston.
“I’m struck by the crude, barely formed letters and imagine her tongue stuck out in concentration, little fingers gripping the crayon as she struggled with her first letter.
“whar r yu? I ned to see yu. Im skard! plees kom. luv judy.”
It isn’t Winston causing havoc but Little Judi, the small me, the ever present remnant from my past. Driven by memories and fears she is too young to understand, she reacts viscerally to events happening to my adult self. The latest salvo has rocked her apparently. I’d forgotten her. Again.
Jada and Jodi join Quiet One at my bedside. They will me to be strong and pull myself together. Closing my eyes again, I inhale deeply.
Patty licks my hand and I stroke her soft fur. Time to carry on.
Its true I can be so blase, but sometimes I surprise myself. Yup, it’s true. I wasnt going to tell but it’s too much to keep to myself. Yup, I’ve had an encounter of my own. But before I tell the story, there’s something else.
I’m working on another project still not blog related. Again there’s no original post, Dear Reader, and with the clock ticking, my muse became temperamental and flounced off. The nerve! I’ll have to start stockpiling posts again. The pressure! Thank goodness for the bag of goodies. Oh, here’s one for the John Porter fans. I like it because it’s cropped so close, I can’t even tell it’s from Strike Back.
Richard Armitage as John Porter, courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
My friend Elsa arrived to belatedly celebrate her birthday which she shares with a certain person. When asked for her serene choice, she suggested Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. Let’s see what Wiki has to say:
“Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring is the most common English title of the 10th movement of the cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147 composed by Johann Sebastian Bach. A transcription by the English pianist Myra Hess (1890–1965) was published in 1926 for piano solo and in 1934 for piano duet. The British organist Peter Hurford made his organ transcription for the chorale movement as well. Today, it is often performed at wedding ceremonies slowly and reverently, in defiance of the effect suggested by Bach in his original scoring, for voices with trumpet, oboes, strings, and continuo. Written during his first year in Leipzig, Germany, this chorale movement is one of Bach’s most enduring works.”
Sigh. I was so busy mucking around with Twitter that I forgot today’s post. So I’m falling back on ye ole standby, DeStorm. This video gets artistic and slick. (NSFW due to language.)
Hello class. I’ve been pawing through my stash for worthy lecture material. A few pics elicited some evil chuckles, but I decided to show some class, being RA’s birthday week and all. But then I spotted this pic on another blog and could not believe that, yet again, it was not given the full and thorough consideration it deserves. Let’s get started.
Richard Armitage at Comic Con describing just how big it is. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
Forget the gestures and concentrate on what’s important – the backside. Ignore the atrociously ill fitting shirt and observe the lovely sweep from the back of the neck to the waist. This side angle does him justice by emphasizing the wide shoulders, curving to the shoulder blades and slowly tapering down to the trim waist in a vee-shaped pattern. If we were to turn him, like a better looking Ken doll on a revolving platform, we would see the same symmetrical pattern from all sides. Unfortunately, we cannot see the small of the back that curves in and out again to a well formed tush that fills those jeans quite nicely. But that’s another post. I could mention the spinous processes and wonderful lordosis of the spine it took to build this manly view, but won’t because I’m shallow. My point is – put a discus in his hand and er… remove the clothes… mmm…. and he could be a Greek or Roman statue in a museum.
Do you see this excellent form on any of the other guys in this pic? I don’t either.
We were so busy partying in chat (what, you missed it?) that I forgot to write a post. SO, to the bag of goodies I go. Ah, here is one of my favorite screen caps from Robin Hood. Can you guess why?
Richard Armitage as Sir Guy of Gisborne, suddenly realizes he’s wearing more make-up than Lucy Griffiths. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
The man stretched his neck and long arms, careful not to bump anything in the small trailer. With the day’s filming in the can, the crew had been heading home for the past half hour. He’d dawdled, unsure why. It wasn’t as if he expected a surprise gathering; he’d been careful not to tell a soul about his birthday today. As he’d grown older, birthdays seemed irrelevant in the larger scheme of things. Now that he’d moved solidly into middle-age, the downside of choosing a youth-oriented profession preyed occasionally on his mind, if he were honest. Many of his colleagues were younger. Had he reached this point in his career a little too late?
He shook his head, as if dispersing the thoughts. Adjusting to a new project, new faces, and a new impersonal hotel room, combined with an annual reminder of one’s own mortality would be enough to make anybody maudlin. Rubbing a sore neck, he eyed the small figurine on the kitchenette table, a replica of his character from the last project. A wave of homesickness hit as he fingered it. Yup, definitely getting maudlin.
Briskly packing the script into a backpack, he stepped out into the summer night and headed to the waiting car. Spotting him, the driver turned and nodded. The man found himself reflexively looking around for any loitering fans. A few friendly ones had sought him out around lunch time in the past week or so. After the problems back home, he felt reassured and gratified by the attention. Before the fans had appeared asking for him, none of the puzzled crew knew who his was. Seeing nobody around, he chuckled. Guess I could have used some ego stroking today, he thought.
As the car swung out of the studio grounds towards the hotel, he considered the evening ahead. A hot shower followed by a fancy dinner? A night out on the town? He smiled ruefully. Most likely it would be running in the hotel gym, dining by room service, returning some calls, studying lines, and finally, lights out. If he felt really crazy, he’d open one of the insanely expensive little bottles in the wine bar. Maybe not. After all, it was an regular night like any other.
Still, he found himself noting the empty pavement as he stepped onto the curb. He peered through the doors into the hotel lobby. None of the crew was about. Not a soul, actually. Things looked pretty dead. Maybe he should ask the driver for someplace to go. He turned back, but too late. Hands in his pockets, he watched the car recede into the darkness and sighed. Oh well. That’s that, then. Time to hit the gym.
A few cheers from across the road caught his attention. He looked over to see some men, a few children, but mostly women. A few held up signs. He moved closer to read them: “Another Rubbish Sign,” “Yet Another Rubbish Sign,” “Still Another Rubbish Sign.” The fans! During the week, they’d brought signs, each more ridiculous than the last. Was this a country thing? He grinned from ear to ear. Did he recognise some faces? A little boy he’d met earlier in the week waved a hand while clutching a small toy in the other. The man laughed and the crowd cheered louder.
Suddenly, everybody fell silent. Another sign appeared. It read simply: “Happy Birthday.” From behind it emerged a small brightly coloured plate on which sat a lone cupcake with a single candle. A hand holding a match reached out to light it.
Happy birthday, they shouted.
The man rushed to greet them.
***
Happy birthday, Richard Armitage. I hope you told somebody.
Yes, I’m late with today’s post. The problem is my mind is a vast desert today, and a certain person’s birthday is creeping up tomorrow. This aggravates the situation by requiring me to say something… you know… nice … about him. Eeek! My lazy side said: “he doesn’t care for his birthdays; so let’s honor him by ignoring him! YAY!” But that seemed a bit … well… too easy.
So, I’m leaving it to you Dear Reader. What would you like me to write for the Big Day? This is your chance to direct my temperamental muse who is being quite emo as I type.
Give it your best shot!
BTW, take another look at Fitzg’s post on Monday. Sorry for the tech difficulty.
The blog is almost back to normal, but something has been missing. So, Fitzg’s Journeys is back! This week she shares a special history most of use don’t know – the biography of Sir Guy of Gisborne.
Since a friend of mine likes Enya, I decided to showcase one of her first “breakthrough” global hits recorded in 1988. According to my pal Wiki, “”Orinoco Flow” peaked at #1 in several countries, including the United Kingdom, where it stayed at the top of the music charts for three weeks. In the US, the song peaked at #24 in early 1989. The song was also highly popular in the early 1990s and was featured on many pop music compilations.”
I’m in a hurry again and feeling challenged to find something surreal for today. Frankly I thought RichardsBeard tweeting me was surreal enough, but maybe that’s just me. Aha, I found something really… interesting. Well, maybe that’s too positive a word. It’s a … fitness video. I think. Says the blurb:
“Mariko Takahashi’s Fitness Video for Being Appraised as an “Ex-fat Girl” (often referred to as Doggy Fitness or Poodle Fitness) is a short film by renowned art director and commercial film director Nagi Noda who has created spots for Nike and Coca Cola and starring Takahashi Mariko, a Japanese 2005 World Rhythmic Gymnastics Championships gymnast and jazz musician.. The film was created for Panasonic’s Ten Short Movies — Capture the Motion series for the 2004 Summer Olympics. The film is a typical work out video except for the fact that the video’s instructor is dressed in a body suit giving her the appearance of having muscles shaped like the fur of a groomed poodle dog. Also, exercising with her in the video are six actors dressed in dog costumes with actual live dogs’ heads superimposed over their real heads. Nagi Noda, in her artist’s statement, explained that she arrived at the poodle concept after noticing that the dogs’ hair cuts resembled muscles. She believed that this concept would help her video appeal to people of all ages.”
Ohhhh! It’s meant to be surreal for it’s own sake. Perfectly understandable now.
I give up. No serious blogging will get done until the weekend hopefully. So, time for my bag of goodies. Oh… here we are…. a nice black and white photo. I rarely post any of these. Observe the contrast of light and dark. Class, are you with me? Discuss.
I’ve been busy socializing and now editing (not my work), so there’s no thoughtfully salacious post tonight. But I will leave you with this picture for reasons. I expect you’ll find “something” to say about it.
Richard Armitage goes all tats as Lucas North. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
I’m trying to figure our how I possibly missed seeing this picture after all these years. Never laid eyes on it until today. It’s like two FAN !FAILS in one. And Billie Piper got to be the filling in that lovely man sandwich. Looks like RA beat DT to the half-embrace but Billie doesn’t like fazed at all. Just sayin’.
David Tennant, Richard Armitage, and oh yeah, Billie Piper
EDIT: An eagle eyed fan explained the picture is probably photoshopped. Well, mystery is solved then! So, intact fangirl status 2, eyesight: 0.
Today was supposed to have been the return of Fitzg’s Journeys, but in a spasm of email inbox cleaning last night, I managed to delete the post. Again. Not good. I can’t download anything on this computer to upload to the blog, so there’s no pretty picture to distract (and I had a very nice one, too). The last option was to share a peek into the inner workings of my mind. I took a peek just now and got laughed out, so that’s not happening either.
So, I’m resorting the last measure – shameless flogging. The lunch break is too short for subtlety, so here goes: welcome to my blog, new subscribers and lurkers! I’m an old hand at fandoms and lurked in the Richard Armitage community for several months before accidentally (seriously) starting this blog in December 2010. After hemming and hawing for awhile, I decided to use this space to kickstart the writing and drawing I’d neglected for a long time. Along the way, I’ve shared pieces of myself while pushing through the creativity blocks. The experiment has been quite interesting for me both as an artist and an observer of your reactions.
As for RA, while I’m a fan, I’m not an ardent one, so that’s allowed me to step back and view fandom a bit dispassionately, and call things as I see it. In my experience, a fandom can run into trouble when it starts taking itself (and the crush) too seriously. It’s dangerous when fans become more focused on their perceptions of themselves and others as fans, and less on the purpose of being a fan, mainly enjoying the qualities and work of the crush and each others’ contributions and individuality as fans.
Somehow I’ve developed a reputation as resident pot-stirrer and sh*t kicker. Can’t imagine how that happened… I’m really quite shy and quiet in real life. Although my style can be snarky (hopefully humorously so) and occasionally biting, it’s done with an eye to reminding ourselves that perspective is always key, and done always – always with love towards other fans and Mr. Armitage.
So, feel free to browse through the blog but clicking the tags and categories at the right side of this page. I’m particularly proud of several topics for various reasons: For those affect by or caring for others suffering from depression, the fanfic posts including a short story called The Chest (email me for the password if you can’t guess it), and assorted writings.
If you have comments, complaints, suggestions, or just want to share, feel free to contact me by clicking the Contact Me tab at the top of page.
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