Surreal Saturday: Thorin As Art

Well, I’ve been dropping balls, so to speak, but I’m determined to pick up blogging again.  The transition has been a bit bumpy, so my juggling a bit atrocious right now.  Concentration goes well, but the persistence and pace – not so much.  Baby steps.

Today’s post is not so much surreal, as surreally beautiful.  ArmitageWorld has been all aflutter this week over the new Hobbit trailer and more peeks at RA as Thorin.  Instead of throwing in my very snarky 3 cents worth, I will be uncharacteristically nice and offer up this gorgeous digital painting by ThreshTheSky.   Done completely in Photoshop, it arrested my attention.  ThreshTheSky has quite a talent.  Check out her gallery.

Digital painting by ThresTheSky at DeviantArt

 

OT: On Remembering and Tolerance

The Teaching Tolerance  site said this today:

On September 11, 2001, 3,000 people lost their lives in New York City, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania.  After these events, hate crimes increased towards Muslims and those perceived to be Muslim.  Use today’s anniversary to create understanding and dispel myths by talking about religion, fath and belief systems.

Keep this in mind today and every day.  Let’s turn the tide of hate and intolerance.  We’re supposed to be better than this.  Aren’t we?

 

 

Foolish Friday: A Last Look At Summer

I’ve been mulling that the bag of goodies has been running out when I started wondering if the pool was still open.  Which made think of this pic, for… er… reasons.  Nostalgia.  Right.  I’ll mosey along and search for more screen caps.

Enjoy your weekend.

Lee, played by Richard Armitage, begins his demonstration. Mmhmm. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com

 

Interlude XXXVI: Does He or Doesn’t He?

Oh, he most certainly does.

In my approaching decrepitude, I’ve given up on the whole make-up thing.  Nobody has turned to stone in my presence, so things aren’t too bad yet.  On the other hand, our Sir Guy never left Locksley Manor without the whole deal (except for a bit during S3 when he went goth).   Great foundation, darkened brushed brows, guyliner, a touch of mascara and eye shadow, usually in a dark smokey olive.  Finish with a smooch of clear lip gloss and he was set for the day.

This picture shows off his deft hand to full advantage.  Back to my other projects.

Guy, played by Richard Armitage, goes over his new contract with Maybelline Cosmetics.

Social Media

The buzz pierced through the fog of his mind like a hatchet.

The Man lie prone on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.  The arm dangling over the side felt dead.  He peeled open an eye, but the light’s glare snapped it shut.  He flopped onto his back, sending a jolt of pain through his brain.  The buzzing continued.

He lifted his head gamely, trying to pinpoint the noise.  Hotel room …. floor… pants … trousers… oh, the phone.  Ignoring the banging headache and few unsuccessful attempts at snagging the trousers and rummaging through the pockets, he managed to silence the thing.  He lie back again and groaned over the hangover.  He’d had a few glasses of wine the previous night while – doing something or the other – something about fans.  Why did dealing with fandom seem to drive him to drink?

The phone dinged.  Running a tongue across parched lips, he lie waiting for the rest of his body to check in.  The phone dinged again.  He was popular this morning.  Another ding.  He fumbled, then raised it to blurry eyes.  The red-haired bloke had texted, “Wow!”  Wow?  He peered at the next texts.  “Hey, you really know how to make an entrance!” and, “I couldn’t have done that!”  His eyes opened wider as he scrolled through tens of messages from friends.  His PR person had left four messages.  His agent left a text, “WTF!!!  Did you really put that on Twitter?!”

The man frowned.  What in the world were they on about? His fingers flew across the screen as he opened the program and searched for his tweet.  He vaguely recollected that a few fans had been dubious about his identity, even on a verified account, when he debuted several days ago.  They had demanded he tweet a picture of himself; he agreed.  What was wrong?  He tapped open the link.

The man sat bolt upright, hangover completely forgotten.  Oh.  Shit.

***

The man glanced down at the bowl of soggy cereal he couldn’t eat.  Naturally the news had spread like wildfire through the cast and crew, but they all treated it as hilarious.  Some passed his table with a few joking words; others waved, winked or flashed an enthusiastic thumbs up sign on their way out to the studio.  He gulped some apple juice as his phone continued lighting up like a Christmas tree.  He switched it to silent.

***

The man stared into space, barely listening to the 3-way conference call with his agent and PR person.  The agent had stopped swearing and started listening raptly to the woman five minutes ago. When the agent began chuckling, the man blinked in confusion.  What, everything was okay?  The woman expounded on “changing social mores,” and “appealing to a younger generation.”  At the part about “getting maximum exposure out of the situation,”  the agent burst into laughter.  Exposure, indeed. Imagine the rags back home.  Classy,  just classy, he thought.  He groaned, head sinking down to his chest.

What would his mum say?

***

The newspaper clippings tumbled out of the large envelop onto the table.  He pawed through them: Guardian, Daily Mail, Sun, Times, they were all there.   The rags had tried to make a mini- scandal of it all, but his PR person had arrange a quiet chat for him with a reporter who relayed an amusing story about “smartphone mishaps” and “depth perception,”  which other papers picked up.  He snorted.  The reporter had left out the part about “doofus” and “pissed.”   For the most part, reaction had been favorable.  He found himself with a half million followers on Twitter in 10 days.  They didn’t care particularly what he tweeted, as long as he acknowledged them.  He picked up the infamous picture and looked with a new eye.  He had no clue how he’d managed to set a wide angle that he didn’t even know the phone had, but the pose looked rather lazy and sexy against the sheets, even if he had only intended to reveal a portrait angle. An inadvertent centerfold.  His agent reported that interest in him had not been adversely affected.   It was all a silly mistake to be put behind him.  He sighed in relief.

Right.  Now time to get a different smartphone.

***

The man sat poised at the laptop, stone cold sober.  He knew his feelings could get seriously hurt, but he itched to know what his fans thought.  He’d heard not a peek out them in a month.  Considering the past problems, it was worrisome.   The red-haired bloke had joked he felt a little jealous because his own fans were still talking about it.  So, what were his fans saying? Hopefully, he’d received boffo reviews.  He found himself giggling.  Oh, this was ridiculous.   I’m too old for this silliness, he thought.  He glanced at the sheets containing line changes for tomorrow, then back at the screen.  Oh, hell.   He surfed to the forum, logged into the members-only section with his secret account, and read.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

He stared glumly at the announcement: “DO NOT OPEN THE JPEG.  Looking at his junk is disrespectful.”

They haven’t seen the picture?  What, am I supposed to tweet, please look at my junk?, he fumed.  He could imagine the red-haired bloke falling down laughing at the news.

Bloody fans suck.

 

Serene Sunday: Summer Breeze

It’s the Labor Day weekend for those in the US.  This usually means the end of summer and wearing white.  But with the strange weather this year, there’s no telling.  Because I’m old, I’ve reached back to 1972 and Seals & Crofts with their #1 hit, Summer Breeze.  Adieu, summer.

Enjoy the weekend.

No Title

♪ Summer Breeze is the title of a song written and recorded by Seals and Crofts that has been covered by The Isley Brothers, Type O Negative, the Three Tenors, and several other artists. One of the distinctive backing instruments on Summer Breeze is a child’s toy piano.