Latest Posts by kctrinalenk - Page 3
Eartha Kitt and orchestra leader Frank Weir at Churchill’s Club in London, 1951.
Photos by Russell Westwood
that’s a beacon i will remember...
he has crafted a play that shrouds us in a deep, deep fog of human depravity, and then, like a lighthouse, those two girls…
liberté, egalité, lesbianeté!
stillness her eyes upon me stillness what does she see?
Eden Espinosa and Carmen Cusack in LEMPICKA at Williamstown Theatre Festival (2018)
“Collect rocks. That’s all. But not just any rocks. You are an intelligent woman so you look for the unimaginable inside the ordinary. Go to places you would not ordinarily go alone - riverbanks. Deep woods. The part of the ocean shore where peoples’ gazes disappear. Wade in all waters. When you find a group of rocks, you must stare at them a long while before you choose, let your eyes adjust, use what you know of the long wait waiting. Let your imagination change what you know. Suddenly a gray rock becomes ashen or clouded with dream. A ring round a rock is luck. To find a red rock is to discover earthblood. Blue rocks make you believe in them. Patterns and flecks on rocks are bits of different countries and terrains, speckled questions. Conglomerates are the movement of land in the freedom of water, smoothed into a small thing you can hold in your hand, rub against your face. Sandstone is soothing and lucid. Shale, of course, is rational. Find pleasure in these ordinary palm worlds. Help yourself prepare for a life. Recognize when there are no words for the pain, when there are no words for the joy, there are rocks.”
Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water
i am a jane austen heroine
What is this place between hopeless romantic and strong independent individual
theatre challenge → 2/5 quotes: ( THE BAND’S VISIT )
“ what is he thinking ? what does he wish for ? is he singing about wishing ? ”
her power is UNMATCHED
Tony Winner Katrina Lenk photos by Emilio Madrid-Kiser
autumn evenings aesthetic
i wanna get drunk and kiss a lot and not think for a while
I love her
how is she this pretty and cute at the same time ?
Someone grant you the rights to a screenplay; I NEED THIS NOW!
NCIS 17x11: the ending we deserved.
Jimmy walks close to Ziva as they move towards the elevator.
We hear a familiar ‘ding’.
The world stops.
Ziva halts where she is, feet rooted to the ground. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opens involuntarily in surprise.
“You,” is all she can say.
The camera shows feet. Man feet, in formal black shoes. Then little feet jump down to the ground and start running.
Bright pink shoes with a bow on top of each one.
“Ima! Ima!” exclaims Tali, running towards Ziva with her arms opened, a big gap-toothed smile on her face.
Ziva gets down to her level and hugs her tightly. Tears of joy stream down her cheeks, but she doesn’t even notice them.
“Oh, Tali,” she says, as she kisses her daughter’s hair repeatedly, not believing this is actually happening.
Ziva David is finally free.
“Told ya it would work, Tali,” says a familiar voice.
The camera goes further up.
“Speechless. You see, all DiNozzo men have this quality of leaving women like that. We just don’t know if it’s a good or a bad-”
“Tony,” she interrupts him, eyes full of disbelief.
Her voice falters and she starts beaming, wiping her tears quickly and getting up.
“Tony. I thought was going to see you in Paris…” her voice is deep with emotion, “why… Why are you here?”
“You know why,” he answers, eyes watering as well.
Couldn’t live without you, I guess.
“Besides, your daughter couldn’t stop asking me where you were, so I just figure it would be best to come straight here, ” he continues, putting his hands on his pockets, “that’s why I wasn’t answering you. Not so much a fancy man to get Wifi on a plane.”
He casts his typical boyish smile and takes a step towards her. Ziva’s breath catches and she stands very still.
“Tony, I-”
“Shhh,” he whispers while grabbing her shoulders and kissing her forehead, “we have all the time in the world, sweet cheeks.”
They exchange a meaningful look. Relief. Love. Peace.
“Hello, everybody,” Tony waves to the team which is watching the scene from afar, “glad this place didn’t go under without the Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo taking care of it.”
His chin angles up as his eyes land on Torres.
“You,” he points at him, “you’re new.”
Tony looks at Bishop, and she’s casting him an amused look.
“Oh,” a loud laugh escapes his lips, “Oh, HO HO HO”, looking back to Torres with a big grin, “best of luck with that, pal. You’ll need it.”
“Ziver,” says Gibbs arriving at the scene.
“Gibbs. I thought you didn’t like goodbyes… Well, I… I don’t know what to say.”
Gibbs looks down at Tali, still hugging Ziva’s waist, and shuffles her hair.
“Nothing to say,” he looks back to Ziva, “you’re ready.”
He opens his arms and Tony raises Tali to his hip as Gibbs and Ziva hug for one last time. For now.
“I am ready.”
“I’ll miss you, Ziver,” he whispers in her ear.
“Sorry to interrupt, mon che-rrie,” says Tony, dragging the syllables in french with his tongue, “but we still have a plane to catch.”
Ziva lets go of Gibbs and they enter the elevator.
“Tap your red shoes three times, Dorothy,” says Tony smiling, Tali on his hip and Ziva kissing her cheek, “we’re going home.”
He looks back at Gibbs and the team.
Familiar orange walls greet them, and the feeling of bittersweet fills their tongue.
“Take care of them, DiNozzo.”
“On it, boss.”
The elevator doors close.
All is well.
