vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)
Dear Mr. Rickman,

Today would have been your 70th birthday. And while I still have A Little Chaos, Eye in the Sky and the new Alice movie to see, what I miss most and shall miss most are your interviews. Especially those in the past few years, where you relaxed and really let your thoughts out: about the power of stories, and the responsibilities of the storytellers, of what words mean and how their power is both immutable and chameleonic. I work with words every day, telling tiny little stories--sometimes, even at less than 114 characters. What you said resonated with this other member of Walter Fisher's homo narrans.

The first film I ever remember seeing you in--not the first film I actually saw you in, just the one that made me look you up and see who you were--was ClosetLand. It reached inside my brain and gave it a good twist. When I looked you up, I realized I'd seen you in that film, and that film, and that film, and that film, and, hey! you were That Guy! And I became a fan.

And then the internet *really* took off, and... )

After a while, I realized it was about connections, and the very bones of who I am.

I liked your work, so I let it into my heart and my head. That changed who I am, and that changed all the "could-be" versions of me, as well. The work you were going to do, that I was going to see, and the interviews you were going to give in support of that work, that was all going to change my future "could-be"s as well. Your work and your words were woven into the trellis of my future growth--all those possible "me"s. So when you died, they all died, too. Those hundred thousand possible "me"s--gone. Other possible "me"s are growing to fill in those spaces, of course, but first--they all died.
And that hurts.


Some of the less-than-helpful things I was urged to do, the day you died, was to "enjoy the work he already did" and "celebrate that it existed at all." In many ways, it is little recompense to simply think back on the things that you'd already done. Emma Thompson wrote she couldn't wait to see what you were going to do with your face next. I couldn't wait to see what percolated out of your brain next. After my childhood, I got very ... leery ... about who got into my head, and what they left behind--what they left behind for me to hear at 2 in the morning, whenever I couldn't sleep. But--I liked your thoughts, so I put some of them into my head. On purpose. And now, every time I jostle one, like a broken bone, it aches.

And yet, I cannot bear to be that "me" who had never discovered your work at all.

I don't know what kind of creature I would be without your influence...
but I have my suspicions.


Goodbye, Mr. Rickman.
I shall miss you.

"Always."



‪#‎RIPAlanRickman‬
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (bujold -- choose to be)
The Rhino Discussion is bearing fruit. One of them is this message I rec'd today:
Hey Vesta--have I said or done anything rude after I have legged you in fighting?

The simple answer--the one requested, however implicitly--is "Of course not."

The problem is...This is the Wrong Question.
The question should be: have you ever seen me behaving dishonorably on the field?

Because this kind of finely tuned question always comes from those who know, deep down, that they have done wrong but they can't bear to look at that part of themselves, so they must hem it in with particulars. Like politicians do.

I did not have sex with that woman... if I define sex in this particular way.
I did not behave dishonorably on the field... if I define dishonorable behavior in this particular way.

Because every fighter has made that error. Every one. At least once. Where they don't feel it because their blood's up, or the f*cker won't take a shot from anyone without a white belt, or they're too good to die to N00bs in Crown, or, or, or... And it's one thing to make a mistake. Because we all do. You fight long enough, you'll make that mistake.

The honorable fighter will resolve to not do it again for the rest of the tournament, and holds true.
The dishonorable fighter always has a reason for why it wasn't a mistake, really. The other guy should have--well, whatever the Other Guy was at fault for.

There are always, too, the true flowers of chivalry: the ones who make sure, great tournament or small, that when they err--they publically acknowledge it. To both their opponent and to the crowd. "I didn't feel that at first--the fight is yours. Well struck!"

How do I answer? How can I say, No to the question I'm asked and Yes to the one I should have been asked?
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)

I found this through some research at work.

If you love tea, I think you'll find this amazing: Susan Elliott's April Bead Journal Project Page

Bring a hankie.
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)
to the incredible Nigel at Return to Romance (Return to ROMe for ANne and CharitiEs)...

He's walking from Gosport, UK, to Rome in honor of his late wife, Anne, who passed away from a heart infection after fighting three kinds of cancer to a standstill.

Hot damn. 
*nods fiercely*
Yeah.

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