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SINÉAD CUSACK and JEREMY IRONS being that couple in Mathilde (2004) 1/2

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JEREMY IRONS looking very soldierly in his olive-green shirt in Mathilde (2004)

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JEREMY IRONS in Mathilde (2004), really delivering those military Alfred vibes

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This little piece of wood had an awesome variety of lichen!

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JEREMY IRONS in Mathilde (2004)

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NUTSA KUKHIANIDZE and JEREMY IRONS in Mathilde (2004)

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Don John seems to be the only character in all literature capable of recognising someone wearing a mask

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This has been an Antoine appreciation post.

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Vincent van Gogh, Flower Beds in Holland, c. 1883 The National Gallery of Art Washington

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The feminine urge to eat a man’s heart in the marketplace

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Josef Sudek - Untitled (forest), 1948

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NUTSA KUKHIANIDZE and JEREMY IRONS in Mathilde (2004)

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“When I remember [that time], I think of it as dancing. Dancing with eyes half closed because to open them would break the spell. Dancing as if language had surrendered to movement–as if this ritual, this worldless ceremony, was now the way to speak, to whisper private and sacred things, to be in touch with some otherness. Dancing as if the very heart of life and all its hopes might be found in those assuaging notes and those hushed rhythms and in those silent and hypnotic movements. Dancing as if language no longer existed because words were no longer necessary.”

— Brian Friel, Dancing at Lughnasa

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“When I cast my mind back to that summer of 1936, different kinds of memories offer themselves to me. But there is one memory of that Lughnasa time that visits me most often; and what fascinates me about that memory is that is owes nothing to fact. In that memory atmosphere is more real than incident and everything is simultaneously actual and illusory. In that memory, too, the air is nostalgic with the music of the thirties. It drifts in from somewhere far away – a mirage of sound – a dream music that is both heard and imagined; that seems to be both itself and its own echo; a sound so alluring and so mesmeric that the afternoon is bewitched, maybe haunted, by it.”

Brian Friel, ‘Dancing At Lughnasa’

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Frank Macoy Harshberger (1900-1975), “Tristan and Iseult” by Joseph Bédier, 1927 Source