Wordless Wednesday - 188

Through the Opera Glasses - 72 - Share Your Love Story Linky Party

Karen at My Desert Cottage is hosting a romantic Valentine's Day event over at her blog today.












If you'd like to take part, just post the story of how you and your sweetie came to be, and link it to her blog. Then dive into the sea of romantic tales.

Here's mine:

Once upon a time, I grew up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, a small eastern Canadian city perched on the Atlantic coast.

When I reached my early 20's, I headed for The Big City. I settled in Toronto, Ontario, where I worked as a live-in nanny for an incredibly cool family.

I also took an evening-and-weekends job as a way of meeting people and indulging in one of my great passions - film. In fact, on the day I was filling out applications at a few cinemas in the west end of the city, where I lived, I decided to take a short break and went to a psychic whose sign was on the sidewalk as I was passing by.

She told me: "your soul mate is very near. He's wearing a uniform."

As I was still very, very new to the city, I couldn't imagine anyone in my life that fit that description, especially as I was not seeing anyone at that time. However, the rest of her reading was very accurate, so I simply stored it away in the old noggin.

I kept walking along Bloor Street until I reached a cinema I hadn't come across before - the Runnymede Theatre, run by Famous Players.

I went in, filled out the application, got a call a few days later and started working there at the candy counter and in the box office.











One of the ushers was really cute. He was a student at The New School of Drama, and we hit it off immediately. We became very close friends for several years.












At the time, I wasn't looking to be involved with anyone, and neither was he. I had a history of having male friends, and he had a history of having female friends, so we just assumed we were going down that road and left it at that.

We spent most of our time together, and I often stayed over at his parents' place in the guest room on the weekends, as we would watch crazy cult films on TV till the wee hours of the morning.

Then one night, as I turned to head up the stairs, he stepped in front of me and kissed me.

Strangely enough, when I started telling my family and friends, "You'll never guess who I'm going out with!" everyone said, "Brad?" without hesitation.

Apparently the entire world knew we were in love with one another before we did.
















Fast forward a few years, and this next shot was taken in our bridal suite at the hotel.












By that time, I was already working towards my Bachelor of Applied Arts degree in Film Studies at Ryerson.

Brad's acting chops came in handy throughout those four years, especially during my fourth year final project.

That's him in the doorway, and me operating the camera. It's also my dad at left operating the sound boom, and my main actor at right acting as sound recording technician (a job he had at Citytv.)











It doesn't matter that Brad and I have been a couple since 1989. Every time I see him, I get the same thrill, and the same smile lights up my face. The smile that is only for him.














Because my husband has bipolar disorder - and in particular experiences rapid cycling - we can never count on what he'll be going through on any given day. We have a sit-tight-and-hold-on-for-the-ride attitude when it comes to his condition. No elephants in the room for us - we feed ours peanuts.

What Brad's chronic illness has given us is the live-every-day-as-if-it's-your-last immediacy. When you never know if your husband is about to go on a months-long downward spiral, or when you hug your husband and feel him shaking like a leaf because he's got agoraphobia and has to go to work, you cherish each moment as if a bomb is about to take you and everything else with it.

It's impossible to take anything for granted, which for us has meant a marriage filled with "I love you"s.















Brad and I moved back to my hometown of Halifax in order to help out with my gram. We all lived together with my mom until Gram passed away in December, 2007.

Now it's Brad, myself, my mom and our dog Xena. The wild bunch!
















On this Valentine's Day, I'd like to wish all of you the same joy I have found with my soul mate, the one who was truly very near that day when the psychic told me so. Even if the uniform in question was a blue polyester Famous Players usher's uniform.

Weekend Writer's Retreat - 42

Here's the latest installment of Scorpius' boyhood back story.

Scorpius is a character from my dark fantasy work in progress. For the first twelve scenes posted for the Weekend Writer's Retreat, we follow him as a seven-year-old, fetched from the nursery by a falconer to become his apprentice.

The next twelve scenes follow ten-year-old Scorpius as he discovers the dangers of serving the nobles he'd once imagined were family.

The third set of twelve scenes give us a thirteen-year-old Scorpius, who discovers the true extent of his master's attempts to shield him from the cruelties of life outside their falconer's cottage.

We rejoin him at age sixteen.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.


Scene 42

Scorpius strode through the gates of the courtyard, his gaze immediately seeking the market stall where Alegreza sold her ma’s wares. The cobblestones lay bare beside the stall where one could purchase leather from the tanner.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to inquire about the market girl right away. Scorpius forged ahead with selling the pelt bundle, even though his mind was far from the business at hand.

“Would you know that market girl who sells trinkets?” he asked as the old trader counted the coins and passed them to Scorpius.

“Alegreza?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” A murmur of unease rustled in Scorpius’ mind at the look on the trader’s face.

“Her ma died, poor thing.”

“I wondered,” Scorpius said, gazing at the missing market stall.

The trader turned to be on his way.

“Ah, would you…do you know where, ah…” Scorpius stammered.

Not smiling exactly, the trader said, “You’ll find her in the room above the clothier’s.”

Nodding as though he might have the slightest inkling where he might find such a place, Scorpius waited until the trader was gone before pointing himself in the direction of the more permanent row of buildings at the edge of the courtyard. He strolled slowly and carefully past all of them before he encountered one that held bolts of brightly-colored cloth and an excitable man gesturing instructions to his apprentice.

Gazing up, he noticed a second storey above this place with a small window.

Well, best go in and ask whether this was the place or not.

“By all means,” the clothier said in an irritated tone. “Perhaps you can do something with her. She’s got until tomorrow before I call the bailiff to remove her from my premises. I have another family who can pay, and the room is theirs the day after tomorrow. So, please.”

He swept an arm to indicate the ladder propped against a hole in the ceiling. Scorpius nodded his thanks and climbed up into the dim interior.

Her sniffles filled the tiny, barren room, reaching into his gut and yanking without warning.

“Afternoon,” he said softly, and her expression almost broke him. She folded into his embrace as he slid by her side and knelt, wrapping his arms around her. Scorpius rocked her, her choked cries reminding him of a day long ago when a falconer had come to fetch him from the nursery. He hadn’t cried that day, but he’d wanted to.

It didn’t take too much convincing before he’d tugged her to her feet, helped her to pack her few things in a bundle and climb down the ladder. A brief scuffle ensued as the clothier attempted to stop Alegreza from leaving before her rent was paid.

At her renewed tears and pale despair, Scorpius blocked the clothier from reaching her, barking at her to leave.

“I demand my money!" the clothier said. "This is not a charity house!”

For the briefest of moments, Scorpius thought of the coins weighing his master’s purse in his own satchel. Then he remembered the way Richolf had grabbed the remainder of the sum when Scorpius had overpaid Alegreza for the stolen bells.

Stepping towards the clothier, who was also a tall man but slender, Scorpius tried to emulate the manner of that cruel lord from the Night of Screams. “Have you no feeling?” he said, his voice squeaking as it did without warning these days.

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are, falconer’s boy.” The clothier stepped even closer, standing nose to nose with him. “I shall pay your master a visit and see where my missing rent has gone.”

Gazing down at the clothier’s slippered feet, Scorpius said, “Don’t forget, it’s half a day’s walk. Until then,” and he forced himself to bow slightly.

Collecting the market girl and heading out onto the road, Scorpius felt a surge of excitement swirling through the worry about Richolf, the disputed rent and permission to bring this girl to his master’s cottage. The heady thrill made his long legs bolt too quickly, and Scorpius kept backtracking to catch up with Alegreza’s distracted pace.

As she was clearly in no mood for conversation, Scorpius left his whirlpool of questions unspoken. Instead, they walked most of the way in silence. At any rate, she’d stopped crying.

Rounding the bend towards the cottage, Scorpius smiled at the dog’s breakneck welcome as he barreled towards them. Alegreza huddled behind him, so Scorpius coaxed her to let the dog near for her scent.

Satisfied that she was friend not foe, the dog bounded back to the cottage, where Richolf stood waiting in the doorway. A chill of nerves washed through Scorpius suddenly. After all, this cottage was where he lived but it did not belong to him. He had no right whatsoever to offer shelter to anyone.

As they neared, he tried to think of all the things he might say to sway his master into accepting the market girl even for one night. But his mind emptied of anything but the memory of her sitting alone in the nearly-empty room.

They stood before Richolf, who took a long look at the two of them before standing aside so they could walk through the door.

© Julia Smith, 2011

5 on Friday - Set 53

Travis at Trav's Thoughts invites everyone to lay down a short set of music that takes their fancies for his 5 on Friday meme.






Continuing with the series of popular music through the decades which I began last fall, let's listen to what the 1950s had to offer -




1 - Mr. Sandman - The Chordettes

Mister Sandman
Bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

Give him two lips
Like roses and clover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

- Pat Ballard



2 - Fever - Peggy Lee

You give me fever
When you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight

Fever
In the morning
Fever all through the night

- Cooley / Davenport



3 - Great Balls of Fire - Jerry Lee Lewis

Kiss me baby
Feels good

Hold me baby
Let me love you like a lover should

You're fine
So kind
Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine

- Blackwell / Hammer

The song begins at the 1:43 mark.



4 - One For My Baby, and One More For the Road - Frank Sinatra

You'd never know it
But buddy, I'm a kind of poet
And I've got a lot of things I want to say

And if I'm gloomy
Please listen to me
Till it's all, all talked away

- Arlen / Mercer



5 - Poison Ivy - The Coasters

You can look
But you better not touch

Poison ivy
Poison ivy

Late at night while you're sleeping
Poison ivy comes creeping
Around

- Leiber / Stoller

Thursday Thirteen - 197 - 13 Ways to Admire Djimon Hounsou

1 - Actor Djimon Hounsou not only portrays heroes on the big screen, but works for social and ecological justice off screen.
















2 - Djimon most recently appeared as Caliban in Julie Taymor's film version of The Tempest.

6' 3"

Eyes - Brown

Hair - Black

Type - Athletic / Mid 40's

He works as an actor / Social issues activist / Eco-warrior

Works in television / Film
















3 - Djimon grew up in Cotonou, in Benin, West Africa where French is commonly spoken. At 13 he was sent to live with his older brother in Lyons, France in order to attend school.

Was discovered by fashion designer Thierry Muglar and worked steadily as a model (1980s)

Appeared in music videos for:

Madonna (Express Yourself)
Steve Winwood (Roll With It)
Paula Abdul (Straight Up)
Janet Jackson (Love Will Never Do Without You) - (late 1980s/early 1990s)

Moved into acting roles, including a recurring role on ER and in films like Stargate (1994)


Next photo is straying into Not Safe For Work territory...

























4 - Djimon keeps in tiptop shape, at first for his modelling career, then for the stunt work required of roles in action dramas like Blood Diamond.


























5 - No matter how delicious Mr. Hounsou may be, he's strictly eye candy, ladies - he belongs to his partner of four years, Missouri-born-and-bred former model and fashion executive Kimora Lee Simmons.















6 - Djimon first appeared on my radar when he played Juba in Ridley Scott's Gladiator. I love how he's literally got Russell Crowe's back in this sequence.












7 - But Djimon can give the gray characters a spin every now and then, like Midnite in Constantine.

The proprietor of a nightclub which serves the figures of Heaven and Hell, Midnite has a foot in both.

Somehow, Djimon can make pimp suits much cooler than they ought to be.
















8 - Remember my soft spot for a man in chains?

...well...

Amistad provides a rather intense version.


















9 - For the most part, Djimon plays seriously shiny heroes.

When it comes to his personal heroic figures, he looks to Nelson Mandela for inspiration (Kam Williams interview.)














10 - Two-time Academy Award nominee Djimon has worked with many top directors during his film career, including the brilliant Julie Taymor for The Tempest.

"Taymor saves the absolute best for last: Prospera’s leave-taking of Caliban (Djimon Hounsou), a static and silent moment, is a brilliant cinematic equivalent for aporia [a seemingly insoluable impasse,] a real and painful doubt about the possibility of a resolution to the conflict between them, and the underlying issues of race and culture, that the play sets up." - Richard Brody, The New Yorker







11 - Of course, Djimon is an awesome crier.


CLICK HERE to watch a clip from Blood Diamond


















12 - When he's not on set waiting for the director to call 'Action!' Djimon doesn't hesitate to act on behalf of others.

In 2008 he appeared on Capital Hill in Washington, D.C. to lobby for the Runaway and Homeless Youth Act, which provides funding to local organizations addressing the needs of America's homeless youth.

"Due to the lack of systems and support [for homeless youth in Paris,] or not knowing how to find people, only made matters worse [for Djimon who lived on the streets for a time during his teen years.] He spent nights in juvenile services as a means to survive.

'I understand that some of the things you go through, it's not just about you,' Djimon said to 9 News Now. 'Some of the pain that is inflicted upon you, mostly does not have to do with you.'

The actor says that today he is most grateful for the experience. 'All the experiences I've gone through, good or bad, they are all a great stepping stone for you to discover yourself.' " - Lauren Vance, WUSA9




















13 - But why stop at Capital Hill if one has something to say about a passionate cause?

Djimon spoke at the United Nations in 2009 on behalf of climate change.

Nearly Wordless Wednesday - 187

1850s cameo valentine from the ephemera collection of Malcolm Warrington

Poetry Train Monday - 182 - Uprising

For this week's Poetry Train, I'd like to dedicate the lyrics from this Muse song to the people of Egypt.















Uprising


Paranoia is in bloom
The PR transmissions will resume
They'll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down
And hope that we will never see the truth around

So come on

Another promise, another scene
Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed
And all the green belts wrapped around our minds
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined

So come on

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious

So come on

Interchanging mind control
Come let the revolution take its toll
If you could flick a switch and open your third eye
You'd see that we should never be afraid to die

So come on

Rise up and take the power back
It's time the fat cats had a heart attack
You know that their time's coming to an end
We have to unify and watch our flag ascend

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious

So come on

- Matthew Bellamy

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!



Photo by Lefteris Pitarakis