Dreaming about Armitage | Armitage en rêves

It’s been awhile since I’ve dreamed about him. The last time it occurred was a few days before I broke up with the Photographer, aka my ex.

I never really paid much attention to the dreams in which Mr A appeared, because first I barely dreamed about him and second those dreams were way too inconsistents to be shared here, with the exception of the kiss. And then there was the one I made ​​last September.

I’m sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of a room without furniture. It’s uncomfortable. I try to move my hands but they’re tied behind my back. Slowly but surely, panic creeps into me.

« You’re awake »

A male voice, deep and rich. I recognize him immediately. I look up and hardly make him out in a corner of the room. Richard is leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, half bent. He doesn’t look at me. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, a black leather jacket, denim and leather b oots. An outfit in which I often picture him in my fantaisies. But something i soff. It feels wrong. I have this visceral sensation, this alarm … My discomfort keeps growing.

I can’t remember exactly what he says then to me, but the main idea is : he knows I want to end our relationship, and he can’t accept it, he won’t accept it. There’s an underlying threat in his words.  I try to convince him he’s wrong, that he’s imagining things, while trying to undo my bonds, but in both cases my efforts are in vain. And I think I should have broke up with him sooner, if only I’d had the courage to make this decision, I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be afraid. I would be safe.

That’s when I notice we’re not alone in the room. There’s another man. Dressed in a dark suit, he looks like a mortician. With his huge hands and his sinister-looking, he reminds me of a henchman. What he is, without a doubt. I’m paralyzed.

Noticing my reaction, Richard smiles, amused. He explains in a few words, with a detached tone, that he’s hired this man to hurt me. I can’t believe him. Paralyzed by the fear that overwhelms me, I’m unable to speak, my lips refusing to move. He stands up and leaves the room, completely indifferent to my fate, leaving me alone with this henchman.

And I wake up.

As I’ ve explained in the previous dream that I shared with you, I have very strong physical reactions to my nocturnal wanderings, even once I’m awake. And this was also the case for this dream -or should I say nightmare . I have long felt this anguish, this dull terror, even while viewing pictures and videos of Mr A ! ^^ But this dream did me good. Two days later I broke up with the Photographer. Richard was only the messenger of my anxiety and not the cause, making me realize how much I was trapped in this relationship I didn’t wanted anymore.

Did I ever tell you that when I dream or fantazize about him he’s speaking in english (so am I) ? For non native english speakers, what about you ? Is he speaking in your native language or good old english ? 🙂

 

 

Cela fait un moment que je n’avais pas rêvé de lui. La dernière fois que c’était arrivé, c’était seulement quelques jours avant de rompre avec le Photographe, autrement dit mon ex. 

Je n’avais jamais vraiment prêté beaucoup d’attention aux rêves dans lesquels Mr A s’invitait, déjà parce que j’ai peu rêvé de lui et parce que c’était des rêves foutraques et décousus, à l’exception du baiser. Et puis il y a eu ce rêve, fait en septembre dernier.

Je suis assise sur chaise en bois, au milieu d’une pièce dépourvue de meubles. C’est inconfortable. J’essaye de bouger mes mains sont attachées dans mon dos. Lentement mais sûrement, la panique s’insinue en moi.

 » Tu es réveillée »

Une voix masculine, grave et profonde. Je la reconnais immédiatement. Je lève les yeux et le discerne difficilement dans un coin de la pièce. Il est est adossé contre le mur, les mains dans les poches, à moitié voûté. Il ne me regarde pas. Il porte un t-shirt noir, une veste en cuir noire, un jean brut et des boots. L’un des ensemble dans lequel je l’imagine le plus souvent. Quelque chose cloche. J’ai cette sensation viscérale, cette sonnette d’alarme… Mon malaise s’amplifie.

Ce qu’il me dit ensuite est assez confus mais j’en retiens l’idée principale : il sait que je veux mettre un terme à notre relation, et il ne peut pas l’accepter. Je tente de le convaincre qu’il se trompe, qu’il se fait des idées, tout en essayant de défaire mes liens, mais dans les deux cas mes efforts sont vains. Je me dis que j’aurais dû le quitter plus tôt, que si j’avais eu le courage de prendre cette décision, je ne serais pas là, je n’aurais pas peur. Je serais en sécurité.

C’est alors que je remarque que nous ne somme pas seuls dans la pièce. Un autre homme est présent. Vêtu d’un costume sombre, on dirait un croque-mort  Avec ces mains immenses et sa mine patibulaire, il me fait penser à une homme de main d’une mafia quelconque. Ce qu’il est, sans aucun doute. Je suis tétanisée.

Voyant ma réaction, Richard sourit, amusé. Il m’explique en quelques mots, d’un ton détaché, qu’il a engagé cet homme pour me faire du mal. Je n’arrive pas à le croire. Paralysée par la peur qui m’envahie, je suis incapable, de parler, mes lèvres refusant de bouger. Il se redresse et quitte la pièce, complètement indifférent à mon sort, me laissant seule avec cet homme.

Et  je me réveille.

Comme je l’avais expliqué dans le précédent rêve que j’avais partagé avec vous, je garde des sensations très physiques de mes divagations nocturnes, même une fois réveillée. Et cela a été le cas également pour celui-ci. J’ai longtemps ressenti cette angoisse, cette terreur sourde, et ce même en regardant des photos et des vidéos de Mr A, alors que qu’il n’y est pour rien ! ^^ Mais ce rêve m’a fait du bien. Deux jours plus tard je me séparais du photographe. Richard n’était que le messager de mon angoisse et non la cause, me faisant réaliser à quel point j’étais piégée dans cette relation  que je ne désirais plus. 

Est-ce que je vous ai déjà précisé que lorsque je rêve ou fantasme à propos de Richard, c’est en anglais ? Du coup je suis curieuse, qu’en est-il de vous, les non anglophones ? Est-ce qu’il parle dans votre langue natale ou bien en bon vieil anglais ? 😀 

Knock knock…

I’ve been lurking in the shadows for the past few days, wondering what I would say 🙂

Many things have changed in my life, maybe I’ll write about it in a way or another. But one thing did not : how I feel about Mr Armitage. Well I’m not a die hard fan, but was I ever one ? ^^

However, here I am. Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met ? I’ve missed him, I’ve missed blogging, I’ve missed the RArmy. That’s what I’ve realized when I saw The Hobbit (amongst other things ^^)

3 months to catch up…. damn !

Meeting Richard Armitage | Rencontrer Richard Armitage

Retrouvez cet article en français sous « lire la suite » 😉

Like everyone in the Armitage Army, I couldn’t have been more delighted to read the stories (especially the very detailed one by ItsJSforMe 🙂 ) of fans meeting Richard. It may be stupid to write, but I’m really happy for them. I was excited, amazed and thrilled by what I read. I had the impression of being with them, and experience first hand a certain reality. A reality including somewhere on the other side of the world the man who has been occupying my thoughts way too often  for almost 1 year. Even though I’m very curious of who he is , I’ve accepted that my role as a fan is to never really grasp him as a person. Therefore, I rarely think of Mr A as himself, but rather as his fantasized version, as a character.

To read these encounters confronted me with his reality. Suddenly he became tangible, palpable, so far and yet so close. While I’m writing these words, he’s living his life in this foreign country, he’s working, he’s laughing at a joke, sharing a good meal, or yawning because he’s been up  since 5am. It’s not Richard Armitage, the actor, neither his characters that I had in mind while reading these recap, but a man, just a man, and almost a young man with this strangely boyish look . A man I could, you could cross at an unpretentious party, at the counter of a pub drinking a beer or at a park jogging, etc. In short, Richard.

I don’t know if I’m expressing myself correctly. What I’m trying to say is that I had a sense of identification so intense that I gasped. Even though my brain was screaming that I was in front of my computer and not in front of Richard, my body reacted as if this was the case. And that’s when I realized something. Something I touched in my questioning of the interest to possess an autograph from Richard Armitage. Just the use of the word « possess » sums it all : if we can’t « possess » him, at least we can « possess » a part of him.  Truth be told, I don’t want to meet him. This is not a « maybe » or « why not » or a « this is unlikely, however. » I have no desire to meet him. And if  by a pure miracle he found himself on my way, I’d turn back to avoid him. I had considered the idea that the most likely way to see him with my own eyes would be at a premiere or a ceremony, where I would be far away from me, drowned in the crowd and making no effort to get closer to him.

I do not want an autograph. I do not want to meet him. I do not want to be photographed next to him or even just take a picture of him. And yet I consider myself a fan. And yet I was overwhelmed and overjoyed at the idea that some of us have had the chance to meet and talk to him. Once again I wonder what that makes of me and what it says about me. What kind of fan am I to try to escape at all costs the object of my affection? It’s not shyness. I’m introverted, but not shy, and my hotheaded side can make me do really crazy things. I don’t think it’s because I’m too self-conscious. The media like to give caricatural and distorted image of us. However, I’m not ashamed to be a fan. At most, I wouldn’t want to disturb him, not to force my admiration on him because I respect him too much for that. But I know that this is still not the real reason.

I’ve always been honest here, I’ve always tried not to censor my thoughts and feelings  since for me the purpose of a blog is to let go the pressure. What’s the point of writing here if I can’t write what I really think? Then fine, allons-y. If I make the effort to consider the problem,  there are two reasons that lead me to have a position as categorical about meeting with Mr A. First, as I’ve already written here, my heart doesn’t beat for him but for his fantasized version (see fantaisies 1 and 2) . He provides his looks, a few character traits showing through in his interviews. So it’s about 20% of the man he is in my head. The remaining 80% are filled by my desires, by my thoughts and cravings. Richard Armitage is not my fantasy, he only gives me the shell for shelter. In a way, I am my own fantasy. With this in mind, it makes perfect sense that I lack interest in meeting him. At most to admire his looks 🙂

The second reason is much simpler. To meet him is to take the risk of being disappointed. It’s my reality vs his. The latter being fundamentally different from mine, I know that in any case I would be disappointed. Not because of my sudden realization that Richard is an asshole full of himself (there’s little chance it’s the case) but because a meeting with him will never happen the way I want. It’s all or nothing with me. If I can’t have everything I want, if I can’t have him as a whole (understand what you want to understand 😉 )  I’d rather not have him at all. I don’t want crumbs. I don’t belittle any people seeking contact, on the contrary, I could repeat it a thousand times, I’ve loved to read and see photos of these meetings. It’s just not for me.

So yes, I am a fan. Demanding, surely. Neurotic, without a doubt. But lucid and very self-deprecating.

And you, would you like to meet Richard Armitage ?

Edit : checking my post one last time before publishing it and guess what, one of the Cbeebies stories has just started to play 🙂

Edit 2 : And another fan gets to meet Richard ! 

Lire la suite

Hiatus or not hiatus

Well, truth be told, not the end stricto sensu, it’s more of a hiatus.

I’ve been posting less and less during the past few weeks. Not because my fondness of Richard is diminishing, not because the drought has stifled my passion or because I’m sick of the cute-crazy Armitage Army. Like I’ve already stated here, sometimes life happens. 

My life is happening and even Tumblr, even our beloved Richard isn’t enough of a distraction from what I’m going through. It used to be a way out, a relief valve for me, but it’s not working anymore and I don’t see the point of keeping this blog if my heart’s not in it any longer.

I don’t know for how long I’ll leave or when I’ll feel like coming back. If you want to unfollow me, I won’t mind 🙂 It was never about gaining more and more followers but about having fun with a bunch a crazy girls 😉

I’ll most certainly miss you, all of you.

Now let’s have a last RA spam before I leave !

Here’s a copy of a post I’ve made on Tumblr about a month ago. I wanted to post something like that here as well but I thought, at the time, that I’d be able to finish some of the drafts I had in my pocket. But I didn’t. And this weird situation lasted.

And here I am. Blogging again. Not saying goodbye. Not at all. But screaming loud and clear, I’m alive !

Richard has been intruding my dreams every night since Monday in all his bearded glory. I think my subconscious is trying to send me a message 🙂

My life is still not in order, but it’s getting better. For one thing, I’ve started to fantasize on Mr A again, which is a good thing in my point of view. I want it, I want my creativity back, I want to write, I want him to be a part of the many things that make me feel alive.

My english is a bit rusty, that’s what happens when you don’t write/speak one single sentence in english for weeks. I’m sorry for my franglish 🙂

Are we in love with Richard ? Thoughts about Armitagemania

I have several posts on hand,  my two kisses to analyse and a brief summary of my London trip, but I want if not need an interlude. Why? There’s quite a mess in my little head and I have to evacuate it (perhaps it’s the fast approaching of my 25th birthday, will I become an adult at last ? ^ ^)

For those who don’t know it yet, I also run under the same pseudonym a Tumblog I use to share most of my creations (animated or things RA related) but also to discover the creations of our army’s other members. It ‘s a platform rather messy, reactive, a bit shallow but also very addictive 🙂 It’s very visual, whereas wordpress is more textual and analytical (although this doesn’t prevent us from behaving like any fangirl , admiring Richard’s nipples for example ….)

(currently gifing Strike Back – screencaps are mine)

I recently noticed something, first on Tumblr and then  here via Snicker’s mom’s post : « defection » of some fans to other actors. In both cases it’s in Tom Hiddleston’s  favor, but it’s only pure chance, thanks to The Avengers. If I’d written this article 4 months ago, I’d named Michael Fassbender, and in 4 months it’d be yet another actor. I don’t begrudge these people for their « infidelity », nor those actors for leading them astray 😉 , I recognize also that, as for myself, I am not insensible to their charms and talents.

I’m not one to  easily fall in admiration and fanaticism, like any teenager, for the first talented actor attractive enough to catch my attention. Which is why I was much taken aback by my gut reaction for Richard. I’m not a fangirl. I’ve never been  and I would probably never be one again. If not for him. Him alone. And the day when this madness will come to an end, because that day will come, it will have only been him.

John Porter, showing us his muscular back

Why do I say that the day of my defection will come with such certainty ? Because it’s already somewhat the case. No, I’m exaggerating a little, but I’m not far from reality. Why? Because I distance myself. I already did on a regular basis from the beginning, but I used to plunged back every time.  Not anymore. Strangely, this dates back to my article on fantasies, as if the fact of having  written them down had suppressed them.  For example, since I’ve written my main fantasy here, I’ve never invoked it again.  Do I need another scenario to play with? Maybe 🙂

Is the scarcity of Richard the cause of my declining passion ? In part, I’d be lying if I said otherwise, but it really isn’t the main reason. I’m too « new » in this army for it to affect my enthusiasm. I think I invested so much in my Richard, who lives in my head, in my fantasies, that the true one, as Richard himself, doesn’t have the same interest in my eyes. He’s no match to my fantasized version of him. Which is a good thing !

I’m better in my life, my work,  my relationship. I feel that I could eat the world. I wasn’t in a hole when Richard (or rather John) crossed my path, but I wasn’t good either. And he helped me feel good again , he supported me, he was my pillar,  he made me smile, laugh and cry. The moment I saw him, I loved him with all my heart. There have been only him. There will only be him. I forget who said this, but this sentence comes to my mind « a crush lasts only four months. » It’s been six months for me, so when I say I’m a baby soldier, I’m not kidding :). And yet I’m still hooked, I stepped back, certainly, for my own sanity, but I’m still hooked ! It’s not a crush. I’m in love with him. That’s it. I write it. This is not a love in the conventional sense, let’s be clear, but the feelings I experienced and I feel are very close to what I felt every time I fell in love, hence the parallel I authorize myself to make, and especially the words I allow myself to use. The words we use to describe our admiration for him are part of the love vocabulary, so why not push the analogy further? The fires of passion have thus subsided between Richard and I, we are now starting a calmer but deeper relationship 🙂

Of course there’s his lovely profile, but all I see is his hands, holding the trigger, and his raised thumb.

Am I crazy ?  Am I sick because I write these words ? I do not think so. Of course, naming things makes them real, but it can also hold them at bay. The act of writing, particularly here, and interacting with other fans makes me realize that I am not alone which is reassuring, but mostly is cathartic, so I encourage you all to write what’s on your heart, no matter who read you, whether it bothers some people or not, do it for you and it will make a world of good.

Lire la suite

Fantasies / Fantasmes part 2

Comme toujours, en français sous « lire la suite « 

Following the excellent article by Servetus, I have slightly delayed the publication of this one because I felt the need to develop certain aspects of my thinking. What I found particularly interesting in her article is that she conjures different characters played by Mr A in her fantasies. Richard as himself, or at least as she sees him, only came later, when she allowed herself to fantasize about him. Personally, I’ve never fantasized about one of his character, ever. I understand the attraction they may have for some, but not for me. Only Mr A as himself takes part in my fantasies, because as I said during the 30 day RA challenge , my favorite of his characters is his public persona,  therefore it’s logical that he’s the hero of my scenarios. Why should I be embarrassed to admit this ? The vision I have of Richard is as fictional than the one I have of Guy or Lucas, so I see no reason to police what I say.

Richard Armitage at the Hobbit press conference, the only protagonist of my fantasies

After my childhood fantasies, the one that makes me endure my job when  it exhausts me or when there’s a tension with le BF is Richard. I only have two fantasy about him, and only the most recent (and most powerful) interests me here. This is a not a writing master piece, I’ve simply tried to summarize the scenario I play with so do not expect a work of art! 🙂

Journalist for a magazine, I’m on my way to the Hobbit press conference for the movie promotional tour in Bordeaux (even if it’s a major french city, it’s far from enough to attract the Hobbit but… fantasy :)). I’m dogged by misfortunes, the tram I’m in goes down  and I have to finish the journey on foot. It starts raining and my shoes hurt. I wanted to be a « real woman » by wearing heels,  but now I regret it. I always have a pair of flat shoes in my bag, so I changed, keeping the other pair in hand, and resume my route. I finally get to the hotel, drenched and exhausted, only to realize that I missed the conference.

The Regent Hotel in Bordeaux, one of my fantasy scenery

Annoyed, I’m about to leave , thinking about my boss’ future scolding when I see two men coming off the hotel bar. I know it’s him. His back is turned to me, accompanied by his publicist, but I’d recognize him amongst a thousand. I know I look miserable, hair dripping, mascara probably streaming on my cheeks, heels in hand, but I can’t miss this opportunity. I approach him but his agent is standing before him, putting a distance between us. He tries to push me away, but I insist. Richard intervenes, interrupting  his agent to let me speak, staring at me from head to toe, which makes me even more self-conscious of what I look like. I’m mortified but gathering my courage, I quickly explained my situation, begging for a few minutes of his time. Something in my words or my attitude makes him took pity of me because he accepts my offer, much to the chagrin of his agent. I ask him how long he can give me. 15 minutes. If he gives me 10 more, I take him to a pub next door to be out of the Hobbit madness . A pint of beer is an excellent argument because once again he agrees. Follows an idle chatter on the way.

The Charles Dickens pub

I keep for myself the questions I’d ask him  because they change depending on my mood – and they’re too dear to me. The interview goes well, I’m professional, I don’t fangirl, which might embarrass him, and I even managed to gain his trust despite a difficult start. I’m especially interested in him, I try to capture him in the time allotted to me. Some questions are very specific  other completely anecdotic. He’s sometimes elusive, but he avoids no questions. I’d be lying if I said I don’t flirt a little with him, but it’s not what this whole fantasy is about. Mr A isn’t famous in France, not yet, so we aren’t disturbed in the pub or on the way.

Once the interview ended, I pay for our consomations and accompanies him to his hotel. On the way, an idle chatter again. I ask him if he had time to visit Bordeaux since his arrival. No, their schedule is too tight so they have no time for sightseeing, to his chagrin. I stop and stare at him. Without even thinking, I suggest, if he wishes to and if he has time, to give him a tour of my city. Polite, he smiles and replies that he’d love to but can’t. I interrupt him by saying that it’s okay, I understand. He laughs again and goes on, saying that if I want him to, he can join me once his obligations fulfilled. A stupid grin on my face, I scribbles my number on a piece of paper and hands him before I leave.

Parking Victor Hugo

Does he call me ? Yes. Do I give him a tour of my beloved Bordeaux ? Yes. Another pub that I love (  beer+me = the perfect equation), a wine bar whose main room is built around a huge fake real-looking tree, a parking with a car giving the impression of to be about falling into the void, the narrow streets and crooked places crawling with restaurants and nightlife, a huge square with a massive fountain, the ruins of a Roman arena, the quays of the Garonne and « Le miroir d’eau » for a final evening walk. It’s adorable, funny, moving. In one word,  perfect. Does he kiss me or more ? No. I touch his hands, his face, he does the same. Nothing more, nothing less. But there is this connection, just this once, just once, for one evening. And that’s all.

This fantasy is deeply rooted in reality. I’m not nice with myself, on the contrary, I’m in trouble (rain, tram going down). I try to take an exacerbated femininity that isn’t mine (the shoes). As a child I wanted to be a writer. Growing up, I told myself  journalist would be a good financial alternative. Adoring film critic, it’s a job I’ve considered for long. In the end, I took a different path but it’s something I could have done. As in my real life, I’ve just started my job and I suffers from pressure from my boss. I see Richard as a case study I want to dissect and solve his mystery. I take him to a place where I feel comfortable, I control the setting if not the effect he has on me. A pint of beer always helps ! What I want is to see the world through his eyes and let him see the world through mine, hence the proposition to visit my town.

Le Palais Gallien, ruins of a roman arena

aside

I’ve always have this fascination with what happens in people’s head. We all have a different way of seeing, feeling and thinking, and I find it extraordinary.The differences are further exacerbated between two people from different cultures and languages. The language we speak and the words we have shape our thoughts, so I’m often frustrated when I speak/write in English, because words fail me and therefore my thoughts are not as precise as I’d like. I always have in mind this example of Inuit languages with about thirty words for « snow ». Thus an Inuit succeed to think and express nuances that I would be unable to seize, as French.

End of aside.

By paying the bill and proposing to give him a tour, keep control while remaining independent. I take the lead, leaving him my number, but doesn’t ask for his because he has to come to me. If he wants to see me, let him come. I’m definitely proud. But by leaving the choice to call me or not, I leave an opening that prevents me to suffer the full brunt of rejection. My insecurities. In real life, I’m in a relationship, but not in my fantasy. However, nothing happens between me and Mr A. Not because unconsciously I refuse to « cheat » on le BF, but because it’s not what I want. I’m looking for this connection, the communion between two minds, just once, just one night. Nothing more, nothing less. Therefore an autographed photo will never satisfy me 😉

Le miroir d'eau

Lire la suite

Fantasies / Fantasmes (part 1)

La version française de cet article se trouve sous « lire la suite » 😉

One topic I’ve wish to discuss here for a while now : the fantasies that we can have as a fan. I should say immediately that I will not talk about sexual fantasies, not that I deny their existence, on the contrary because, admit it or not, I’m sure half of us has fantasized about Mr A.’s intimacy at least once. There’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, although I understand that it’s about something very private, and that talking about it can be misunderstood by some people.

The main protagonist on my fantasies : the man himself and his lovely hands

So what is a fantasy? After a quick search, here’s my definition : imaginary scenario including the completion of a conscious or unconscious desire. I emphasized the word unconscious because it seems to be an important part of fantasies, and  as I always say, what we feel, what we think, and now what we fantasize reveals more about us than  about Richard.

What do we do when we fantasize ? We play and we change the reality so that it bends to our desires. This doesn’t necessarily mean  that our fantasies are always positive, it may happen that certain desires or rather unconscious fears are expressed through our fantasies. Ultimately, a fantasy is a way of deceiving ourselves we all use. We lie to ourselves, we delude ourselves in it.

How one can resist this smile ?

I’ll obviously talk about mine and the part they have always had in my life. But what interests me more specifically is what type of fantasy Mr A. causes. I know where I stand, but what about you ? Are the situations you imagine realistic or completely fictional ? Are your fantasies platonic or on the contrary pg-17 ? Are you an hopeless romantic wishing a happy ending like Margaret or Geraldine ? Do you picture Mr A as himself – or at least his public persona – or is it  one of his characters that has your favors ? Is it the same scenario that you play again and again ? Or do you have a whole gallery of fantasies ? And you, how do you picture yourself ? Do you hide behind an alter ego, an improved version of yourself perhaps, or are you you ? I could go on  like that for hours :).

Personally, fantasies have always been a part of my life. I’m an only child, raised by a single mother who worked hard, thus I spent much of my time alone which developed my imagination. I read a lot, which allowed me to experience many adventures, and at one point I started imagining my own. My fantasies have grown with me, evolving along with my desires. For example, I often imagine a situation I had experienced but differently, replaying the scenario in my head several times, each time changing a tiny detail until it suits me.  This mecanism helps me get better and handle certain situations that otherwise I couldn’t deal with in reality. My fantasies hold me together, they helped me.

I’ll stop here for now, this post is, again, much longer than what I expected. Tomorrow will  be the « me-part » of this topic where I’ll analyze a fantasie of my own 🙂

 

Lire la suite

A Lucas North study, part 1

Edit : I’m sorry for the typos, weird syntax or vocabulary, but my brain just died because of this post XD

It’s been a while since I’ve wanted to write about Spooks. On a specific scene. A difficult , heartbreaking scene, which shows once again the talent of Richard. I didn’t knew how to approach it, I still  don’t by the way, but the idea kept going in circles in my mind so I decided to yield. Even if it means rewatching said scene  several times in an attempt to grasp its nuances and especially why it upsets me so much. The scene in question is, I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, taken from episode 4 of season 8, Lucas North suicide attempt during his imprisonment in Russia.

Before getting into the thick of things I need to develop a few things about me as a viewer. In « real » life, I do not cry, ever. I think the last time I cried was at my grandfather’s funeral two years ago, and it’s not so much his death that saddened me rather than my mother’s absolute misery. I put some distance between the world and me , I am and I must be strong, for me, for others. Therefore, it’s out of question to show any signs of weakness, because yes, crying is a weakness.

In contrast, while watching a film, tv show, reading a book or even listening to music that I love, I can easily burst into tears. These various media are my escapes, they allow me to let go and allow myself, for once, to feel fully. It may be horrible to say this, but I often feel more affected by the fate of a character than by what happens around me. Because in a way, it’s virtual and therefore safe for me.

Now back to Lucas. Seconds before the flashback, he’s been violently arguing with Sarah. He is sharp, aggressive, on the edge. We don’t know if he will explode or collapse. If he will react with violence again, preferring rage to despair, or whether he will be as he is : a broken man. And this is where RA’s talent  is shown. Lucas is feverish, he rushes to the sink, running water to cool both his face and spirit. His gestures are jerky, imprecise, awkward. His agitation is clearly visible. His breathing is audible, fast, he fights against his own body, betrayed by it. There’s also that habit of his I love, which he regularly uses  in distress. He covers his face with his hands. This simple gesture makes  Lucas appear particularly vulnerable and fragile. Throughout this passage his back is turned to us, but at no time his face is needed to understand his inner turmoil. ( I don’t know why but  I think about the « Tempête sous un crâne » of Valjean in Les Miserables. ) This guy is so good, he succeeds to convey emotion with his back!

Flasback. Focus on his face. He’s lying on the floor. He’s exhausted, dirty. His hands against his chest, he’s almost in a fetal position, looking for any comfort. His eyes haggard, he seems  lost, disconnected.

Back to Lucas in his apartment, still filmed from behind, his hands resting on the countertop. He’s overcome by nausea, almost convulsing, while his chest is contracting. His psychological trauma is so intense that it affects him physically. It’s a panic attack, he tries to suppress it as he can. He literally fights against what he feels, he’s overwhelmed by his feelings.

Flashback. This time in wide angle shot. He is curled up on the floor, barefoot, wearing only pants. His cell is empty and decrepit, which further enhances the impression of fragility. Lucas looks almost frail, crushed by the prison. He tries to get up but can’t, he crawls more than he stands up, he even needs the support of the wall. All in an extremely slowness. Every detail, voluntarily or not on the part of Richard, is done to emphasize the impression of vulnerability and instability. He stands hunched, his eyes half closed, as if it were impossible for Lucas to face a second more the reality of his situation. He’s on a razor’s edge, ready to switch at any time.

His lips are plucked, he has trouble swallowing, he lowers his head, forehead pressed against the wall, once again a gesture of submission and surrender. He capitulates. (It’s interesting to see that after the departure of Sarah, he has exactly the same attitude,  this time leaning on the door , after closing it). I don’t know if his decision is made at that moment. He contemplates the idea of his own death, thinking that he can’t bear this life anymore,  or as I say, his non-life. I don’t think that when he grabed the chair he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. Lucas seems to be in a daze. He suffers, so he finds a solution to stop it, a drastic one. It’s simple.

Shoulders low, his face collapses, his mouth is drawn down, lips parted, his jaw hanging and trembling, he’s overwhelmed by the weight of his situation. Only the space between his eyebrows is contracted, accentuating the feeling of depression. In both shots, present-Lucas and past-Lucas, he has the same expression, the same attitude, staring at the ceiling in one case and at the rope  in another. He relives the scene.

I’ll stop here for today, just before the most difficult passage, because this is already much longer than I expected, and unfortunately messier too! I won’t tell you how many times I had to watched this scene, but I must be somehow masochistic 🙂

A Lucas North study part 2 

French below the cut

Lire la suite

Why me ? (part 3 )

Last but not least – i hope ! -, the final question. Actually, this is very stupid, but there’s a simple reason why I, an almost 25 years old french woman – oh my god, I‘m a grown up – have succumbed to his charm. He reminds me of an ex, especially with the beard. When I was 18/19 years old, basically a kid I went out with two actors, two opposites, both physically and mentally, but they were united in their profession, their passion. The one who was the most important to me was a tall dark haired guy with a long nose and piercing blue eyes. Quite older than me too, he was already a man when I was not yet a woman. His beard stung my cheeks every time he kissed me and I do not think I need to specify his name to complete the picture yes it starts with a R.

a momentary Richard interruption

My tastes haven’t really changed since. I keep three memories of him, the 1st, he, lying on his bed and, when he has just explain to me the necessity of his single life, the fact that he he can’t take his eyes off my backside when I get up. I still smile when I think about it. His contradiction. He’s also the man with a hard and indecipherable face, the man who suddenly imposes himself on me in a shout “I exist!”. Ultimate expression of his being. He frightens me, he hurts me. His violence, his toughness, strength. He’s this fragile man with tear-filled eyes who stumbles, who flays his mouth in confessing to me ”but I love my father.” His weakness.

and another one… 🙂

He was a child, not a man. He was no longer a man when he pressed me against him, when he laid his head on my lap and he buried it in the pit of my arm. I think what I like about Ra is part of what he shares with that other Richard. I’ve the same protective instinct, very maternal towards him, I feel his strength but also his vulnerability. I feel this duality in him, but also the fierce passion that fascinates me. I still googled this ex from time to time, to see where his career takes him, and what he does 🙂

Why him ? Why me ? Why now ?

Thoughts about fangirling (with Spooks behind the scenes pictures because, come on, nobody’s gonna read so many words without RA pictures 😛 (and I’m still not over Lucas…))

I’m sorry if I post very little original content this week but my job takes a lot of my time (and energy…). So unfortunately I just react and reblogg. In default of creating content, I want to provoke a reflection amongst Ra’s fans. And when I say fans, I don’t think of those who only admire his body ‘hmmmm what a pretty boy’, but of hopeless cases like mine, desperately addicted (these questions can also well be applied to all die hard fans, be it RA, Fassy, Hiddles or Eoin 😉 ) 

As I’ve written several times on this blog, being a fan reveals as much, if not more, of us than of our fangirling’s subject. Of course, when I say I’m a fan of RA, it necessarily concerns him, as he remains the object of my affection. But I think, above all, by liking him, I define and also reveals who I am. 

First question, the easiest : why now ? 

I’ve already explained here it wasn’t love at first sight with Richard, far from it. So why have I yield this time? I’ve fallen for him about 4 months ago. This coincides almost perfectly with my new job.  

By getting this position, I hadn’t expected three things : stress, pressure and management. I do what I love, but there are certain aspects that are really hard on me. This is my first real job, I can’t screw it, I’ve worked too much for this. Furthermore, I had to leave all my friends and a city I love for the middle of nowhere. 

All this to say that I was in period of doubt, change and stress when RA came into my life. He was a distraction, literally, he diverted me from my daily worries. He became a haven, as a comforting cuddly toy, and I fucking needed it. I’ve always tended to isolate myself from the world when things got too hard to deal with, as a child I used to live thousands and thousands adventures in my imaginary world. And that’s what I found in this addiction. It’s the way I found to bear my real life difficulties.