the_deep_magic: (So then that happened)

Last portrait (for now); kinda sad.

The model is sad, too )



Ok, time for some books!

Day 8: Most overrated book )

Day 9: A book you thought you wouldn't like but ended up loving )

Day 10: Favorite classic book )



And now for something completely different: I had a weird experience the other day.  I had Netflix'd A Dangerous Method, even though Keira Knightly annoys the crap out of me, and the whole time I was watching, I had the unshakeable conviction that I've seen this before, and Ralph Fiennes is supposed to be playing Jung.  Credits say it was based on a play called The Talking Cure.  I went through some old travel journals, and sure enough, I saw The Talking Cure at the National Theatre in London on January 2, 2003.  Google confirmed it starred Ralph Fiennes.  Then I remembered -- the terrible seats, because the thing had been sold out before it even opened; the three-story set that took up the entire proscenium, floor to ceiling; being really uncomfortable during the rough sex scenes because I'd gone to see it with a slightly older male friend. 

What disturbs me about it is that I didn't remember the play for certain until I found the ticket.  I thought maybe I'd imagined the whole thing.  And if I hadn't seen the movie the other day, I couldn't have told you anything about the plot.  I was excited that I managed to see the play, and according to the journal, I really enjoyed it.  I don't know; I suppose the nine-year time lapse makes it forgiveable, but I've always had a really good memory, and it freaks me out when I can't remember things I think I should.  I mean, I'm not 100%, but I'm pretty sure I saw Ralph Fiennes' naked ass (or, as we were in London, arse) that day, and that is not something that should be forgotten.  I'm too young to worry about my mind going, but I do, even if it's probably not warranted.

Incidentally, that's the same London trip in which I met Gillian Anderson as well as Dames Judi Dench and Maggie Smith.  The latter called me "daft."  In an affectionate way, of course (long story involving a friend bribing me to ambush her at the stage door).  Whatever, Professor McGonagall called me daft!  I'm practically a Gryffindor!  ::throws confetti::

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the_deep_magic: A nightmare inexplicably torn from the pages of Kafka! (Default)
the_deep_magic

June 2016

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