#Angel being the one to comfort David on Father’s Day GOT me because this exact scenario happened on Mother’s Day

[fregget-frou]

Angel oc angst and their backstory + personality

I love Aklaq so much

Aklaq is getting better at it but they’re still very self conscious about their injuries when they were 16. They got into a nasty car accident where they had to have their left leg amputated because of the damage from the fire. Since then they’ve hated how less mobile they seem to be, and angry with them for struggling with things. Aklaq used to be the families support and did most of the work along with their younger brothers and took a lot of pride in being strong and reliable. Since then they struggle to do alot of prolonged activities because of chronic pain and less stamina. They hate being looked down upon and it was a large problem in the beginning of them and David’s relationship because he kept on belittling them and trying to do things for them because they’re disabled. This led to a large fight when David was constantly forcing them to stop doing chores and generally anything physical which led to them breaking down because they felt trapped.

They’re trying but it’s hard, both them and David are very reserved people just expressing that in different ways and they both struggle to make meaningful relationships. Aklaq lost their mom before they moved to California for college and simply couldn’t stand being in the same place where she used to be so they left. Their little brothers were old enough to live on their own but still felt hurt as Aklaq refused to talk about their mom and even acknowledge she died. When angel finally accepted that their mom was gone it was hard but at the very least David was their to be able to get that feeling. Their mom and Aklaq had a similar dynamic with David And Gabe, Aklaq being the oldest and being the one to take over the family farm, being raised by their mother alone because their father passed etc.

Aklaq is an older oc that I adapted into a listener and I find their personality along with David’s to be great together, even with the clashing because they are in similar situations and can lean on each other. I just love them pls

[nestasgalpal]

Folklore (Nesta Archeron Fanfiction)

The lakes

This fanfic is pure Nesta angst. Each chapter is inspired by a song from Folklore, as if Nesta was composing/playing/singing the song while having the moment I narrate in mind. This first chapter was inspired by The Lakes, which reminded me to what Nesta might sing to her friend Claire.

“Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die/ I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” meaning the true form of their relationship, and “A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground/ With no one around to tweet it/ While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love/ And insurmountable grief” being about how she misses not only her but how she made her feel.

I would like you to listen to the son after you read the chapter and check for yourself if it makes sense. The piece she sings in the begining of the chapter was also inspired by this cover of Sodier, Poet King.

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There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Nesta’s voice was like silk as she sang to them. Elain and Claire were dancing together with their feet on the edge of the pond to the rythm of the song, and Nesta was reclining against a tree close enough for them to use her music as their own personal orchestra. The summer afternoon breeze stirred their dresses, and the sun made Nesta’s blond hair shine like gold.

There will come a poet Whose weapon is His word He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Her sister and her friend started singing the last verse with her. It was a well known poem, an all time favourite for the Archeron sisters and now also one of Clare’s even if it was only because of the memory she would keep of their summer afternoons, the three of them together.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai... oh

Their village was too cold and too close to the Wall for troups to come in the winter or even in autumn, but at least one made an apparence during the summer, and the three girls went to see their spactacles in the plaza. Nesta and Clare were 16, Elain a year younger, and boys were starting to look at them with a special shine in their eyes. A young musician had fallen in love with Clare this year, and the girl, who wasn’t very fond of the boys she had at her disposal in the village, had enjoyed the way the rad-haired musician followed her around. He wrote a poem for her, admiring her short brown hair and olive skin, and ultimetly had asked her for a kiss, which Nesta’s friend had been delighted to give.

Her first kiss.

Nesta had never had one.

That was the topic of the day. How did it taste? And what was one supposed to do, anyway? Were you supposed to stand there and be kissed or was it perhaps more difficult than that?

“I’ll show you” Clare had offered, tired of Nesta’s questions.

With a chucke, Clare cuped her friend’s face and pressed her lips softly against Nesta’s. She was delicate, careful and sweet, and Nesta knew right in that moment that no other kiss she receibed in her lifetime would compare to that one. When they separated, Claire’s eyes were dreamy, while Nesta’s were muzzy. Both of them laughed nervously, their faces still close and Clare’s hands still caressing Nesta’s cheeks.

They broke apart when Elain cleared her throat, mad she had been forgothen in the pond. Claire laughed and let Nesta’s face go to stand up and run towards the other one. She extended her arms and Elain took her hands to run back to Nesta together.

The three of them sitted in the green grass, trying to cover their heads with the shadows the trees projected. The meadow was full of daisies and dandelions, an the pond’s water was clear. That’s why Nesta’s favorite season was summer. It rarely rained, so the dirt in the pond’s bottom wasn’t shaken by it and the surface didn’t become muddy.

“So... Elain” Clare’s smile was hussy and big, like she knew she was about to get some good gossip “Soldier, poet or king... which one would you pick?”

Usually Nesta didn’t feel comfortable talking about boys. Not yet. She kept it to herself so she didn’t look childish, but she still dreamed one day their father would gain back their fortune and she would be able to find a better man than the ones she could find in the village. But this time it was different, since it was just the three of them picking a character from a song. It was just an inocent pick. There were not soldiers, no poets and no kings there, so it meant nothing.

“Easy” said Elain “The poet is for me, the soldier for Nesta, and-”

“And the ruler for me?” Clare compleated, excited and already laughing at the idea. “I don’t know about that...”

Elain, who enjoyed this kind of games a little more than Nesta did, noded, also smiling, but with a glimpse of superiority in her gesture. “The ruler is for Feyre, dear” Her words came out sweet, but with a clear intention: to put Clare in her place. Her sister loved their friend as much as Nesta did, but sometimes she could get a little jelous if the two of them came too close and left her behind. Nesta coud understand that, it was only fair, so she allowed her to say this kind of things from time to time just to make her happy.

This time Elain was speaking the truth, though. Since they first heard the poem, the soldier had been for Nesta, a knight to protect her in her adventures. She used to play with the idea of the ruler as her pick, but she would never be satisfied with a throne that was given to her, she would rather take it herself. That’s why she needed a knight and his armies: to help her.

Then Feyre, who was the youngest and hadn’t got mutch of a personality when Elain and her became obsesed with the song, would marry the ruler and be queen. Easy.

“Finally, I would marry the poet, who, just like your musician wooer, would write a thousand poems and songs about my beauty and kindness” Elain explained to their mutual friend the story they had made up a long tme ago, when their mother was still alive and they enjoyed singing.

Now Nesta hardly ever did it, only when she felt comfortable enough to do so. With her sister and her best friend, she did, she felt safe.

“Nah, that would never work” Clare complained, taking Nesta out of her daydreaming.

“What part?” she asked.

“You and the soldier, silly!” she thought it was funny, but Nesta didn’t. The oldest of the Archeron frowned. “You could never be happy with a soldier, Nes. They work for kings, so his loyalty would be to someone else, not to you. Never to you.” Clare, who was sitted in the grass and leanin in one hand, lay down on the soil and rested her head on Nesta’s lap. “I know you, Nes, and you need someone you can always rely on, otherwise you won’t be satisfied. You don’t need the kind of safety a sword provides, you need reliability, and you would never find it in the soldier”.

Nesta’s brow was still frowned. She really didn’t like talking about boys.

“What do I need, then?”

“A poet, Nes” Clare’s voice was so  blissful she couldn’t help but relax her face. She ment no harm, she was not trying to ridiculize her by bringing up the subject. Clare didn’t even know she was so insecure about it. “You need a sensible soul to feel your pain and help you carry it. You have a wonderer soul yourself, so it would be a perfect match.”

“Is Tomas your poet, Nesta?” Elain asked, bringing herself back to the conversation. This hurt Nesta a little more, since Elain did know about it, but she let it go. It was just one of those moments of jelousy she felt sometimes.

“No” she replied. Tomas was none of the three. Not even close.

“Promise me, Nesta” Clare asked. She had her eyes closed and the breeze fluttered her short hair in Nesta’s lap. Years later, The oldest Archeron sister would go back to that exact moment and wonder if she had actually been that beautiful or it was just her brain tring to keep a good memory of her dead friend. But in that moment, she actualy saw her as a sleepy angel, gifting Nesta her heart. A blessing. “Promise me you won’t settle with the soldier and you will find a poet who makes you trully happy and is devoted to you”.

In that moment she thought her friend had Tomas in mind as “the soldier”, but now Nesta fantasized with the posibility of Clare talking about Cassian. Had she known something? Like a vision sent by a forgoten god from the mortal realm? What would her friend think if she saw her now, alone in a tent, cold, curled up in a tiny matress in the Illyrian Mountains, lost in her own pain because she had wanted to trust in the soldier’s word and he had failed her? He told Nesta they would have time and he would always find her, but Claire was right and his loyalty had never been hers. What had she done? What would she do from now on?

“I promise” a youg version of herself answered.

Clare smiled and pulled Nesta’s face close to her to kiss her again.

[eldritchsurveys]

o62.

[[ Random Survey Questions // By @x-hallie-x​ ]] What is the most you’ve ever eaten in one sitting? >> I have no idea, really... probably like 7/8ths of a pizza? Or maybe something else. I also don’t pay a whole lot of attention, so, you know.

How often do you skip breakfast? >> “Breakfast” is a hard concept for me to lock onto, because I usually eat at some point after waking up, but it’s not like... a dedicated meal. I just eat when I’m too hungry not to.

What’s the longest you’ve gone without leaving the house? >> Here, probably five days or so.

Where are you going the next time you go out? >> Sparrow is going to this... idk, informal memorial thing or something for one of her grandparents so I guess I’m going with her lol.

Did/do you miss a lot of school or do you have a good attendance record? >> I had an impeccable attendance record until high school, and the only reason I didn’t have an impeccable one in high school is because I was in and out of the hospital by eleventh grade.

What are some weird habits you have while eating/about food in general? >> I don’t like certain textures (things being mushy when they’re not Supposed to be is the best example). Produce has to be inspected and vetted before I put it in my mouth; any imperfection is liable to put me off eating it. I don’t like messy sandwiches (have had shutdowns in restaurants because of messy burgers and such). Probably more, but I don’t really think about it until someone points it out or I inconvenience someone else with a habit of mine.

What kinds of things are likely to make you cry? >> Certain movies. Grey’s Anatomy. Some of the things Can Calah says. A lot of the things Wednesday says. That’s really it as far as “likely” is concerned.

What are some things that make others cry that don’t make you cry at all? >> Animal death and most people’s deaths (David Bowie was a special case and I’ll fight anyone about it) are the only things I can think of that are almost guaranteed to make other people cry but generally don’t affect me on that exact same level. Other than that, I feel like the things that make people cry are as varied as people themselves, and it’s really difficult to compare this sort of thing.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? >> As of the past month or so, I’ve been drinking significantly less in comparison to earlier habits. I opened a bottle of wine a couple of weeks ago and I only just drank the last of it a couple of days ago. I’ve had a four-pack of Backwoods Bastard for at least a week and a half, and I still have two left. I don’t even drink enough to get past tipsy anymore, I just kinda stop myself when I notice the “hey we feel great, so that means drink more!” impulse, because I know it’s a fallacy and it’s one discipline-related thing I can teach myself right now -- to ignore that voice. I don’t really just... sit and drink anymore, which is an improvement. I think it’s finally just lost most of its appeal -- alcohol is too much of a stressor on the body-mind and I’m tired of it. I don’t smoke anymore; I try to sometimes because I still have this pack of cloves and I’m just like “meh” every time. I would still smoke weed, though, but I don’t have access to that.

Where was the last place you went out to eat and what did you order?What do you think of fast food? >> I actually don’t remember... I’m sure we went out at some point after Chicago but I’m just blanking on it. So I’ll just say Nando’s, which was in Chicago, and we ordered wings and chips (and I got one of the custards). I like fast food, I think it’s great. I just can’t eat it often because I have a bougie body. (You can thank my father for that.)

What website do you spend the most time on and why? >> tumblr, because I genuinely enjoy it here.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? >> Like, in a day? All of it. And yeah, that’s pretty standard for me, although video games now influence how much time I’m actually on the web (as opposed to using the internet connection for the game).

What is something you daydream about often? >> I don’t know that I daydream. I am either in meatspace or inworld, but I don’t think I play around in dreamscapes much. Inworld kind of is like a dreamscape, in the sense that it’s sensitive to Our needs and wants and adapts accordingly, so I guess that limits my need for daydreaming...? I don’t know. When I do daydream it’s to get ideas for writing stuff, I think.

What is one belief you used to have, but no longer do? In what ways are you influenced by the opinions of others, if ever? >> I used to believe that my identity was set in stone and I couldn’t do anything about that. And I guess I’m reasonably influenced by the opinions of others -- like, I’ll always consider a convincing argument. I try not to get caught up too much in confirmation bias, but that’s always going to be a pitfall, too. Mostly I just try to keep an open mind, because it’s valuable to me not to get too tunnel-visioned or “this is how it is and anything else is wrong!” about anything. After all, what do I know, right?

What was the last thing to make you feel good about yourself? >> I don’t remember. Uncertainty (regarding myself, my development, my contribution to society, etc) has been a struggle lately, but I guess that’s just human.

How would you describe your overall (or preferred) personal aesthetic? >> Right now I’m just kind of a lazy goth/metalhead. It’s difficult for me to shop for clothing and I also don’t have a lot of money. Plus, it doesn’t matter as much to me as it did when I was a little younger and had to look like a goth fashion plate at all times. (I did look good, though! :p)

What kinds of small judgments are you likely to make about others? >> I make a lot of inconsequential snap judgements about people on tumblr, mostly, because that’s the most contact I have with strangers on a regular basis. You know, like... “oh god you must not get off tumblr much if you’re discoursing about whether aces belong in the queer community” or “oh my god you really can’t stand to see the word queer ever in your life? smh” stuff like that. Mostly because I’m fucking tired of the discourse, but luckily I don’t see much of it on my dashboard so I usually don’t have much snarky internal commentary to make. 

What was the last thing you did mostly because society expected you to? >> That’s a good question but I don’t remember, lol.

When was the last time you felt out of place? >> In “bougie Meijer” (the Meijer in Cascade, which is an upscale part of town... they have Tesla charger ports in the parking lot, if that’s any indication) earlier. It’s such a low-grade alienation that I don’t even notice it anymore, but like... just going a lot of places in Michigan makes me feel out of place and socially/culturally alienated. I have never belonged here and I don’t expect to ever feel like I belong here.

Do you believe in aliens, spirits, or angels of any sort? >> Sure. I see no reason not to.

In what ways are you superstitious? >> I’m not sure. I don’t think I am, really; I think I have a few minor compulsions at best, but I’m not really superstitious per se.

What is something you wish for right now? >> To not have a reproductive system.

Where was the last place you went walking and how far? Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? >> Uh... the mall, I guess? Does that count? LOL. Wasn’t very far. I don’t do much walking these days. And I don’t know, I’d just... rather not exercise at all. Doing it with others doesn’t really make it any more fun for me because that’s how much I hate it.

What kinds of nail polish colors do you prefer to wear? How about makeup? >> Black, usually. I like other colours, I just... feel more comfortable in black. I like gold and dark shimmery colours in makeup, and plum-toned lip colour.

How would you describe your own relationship with makeup? >> I don’t really have a relationship with it, I wear it sometimes for the lulz but usually I don’t have the patience for it. It’s a huge hassle for someone like me.

Who has been in your life the longest amount of time? What about the shortest? >> I think Elle has been in my life for the longest amount of time (9 years). Shortest... Rez, I think (maybe 7 or 8 months? idk time isn’t real).

Who was the last person to leave your life? How about return to it? >> I just realised some of these questions got mushed together when I copied it and they weren’t supposed to be answered that way, lmao. Oops. Oh well, what’s done is done. The last person to leave my life was Sigma and the last one to return to it was Hallie.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? >> Culturally-rich places, places where people look more like me, places where colonisation and/or Westernisation hasn’t completely supplanted the local culture and religion, places where nature isn’t treated like something to conquer.

Do you think humans colonizing Mars is a good idea? Would you go, if you could? >> I think it’s an amazing idea, and I love it. Whether it’s a “good” idea or not is better argued by people who have knowledge of these things. I don’t know if it’s a “good” idea or not, but I know it makes me very excited, and that’s all I can speak about. I would absolutely go if I could.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? >> Probably a few miles. Well, there was one time when I was stuck in North Carolina and I wanted out and I... well, it’s a long story, lmao, I’ll certainly tell it but not in the middle of a survey. I’ve also walked many city blocks in a day when I lived in New York, for funsies or for free travel... but I don’t know how to translate that unit of measurement into more standard units.

Why do or don’t you prefer to make New Year resolutions? If you make them, what kinds are likely to stick? >> I don’t make them because there’s no way a New Year resolution is going to stick any harder for me than it would if I made the resolution any other time of year. I think NYRs are cool and fine, they just are ineffective for me personally. Also, I try not to put that kind of pressure on myself unless it’s absolutely necessary, and if it is, then it doesn’t matter what time of year it is.

Do you have a chore/housecleaning routine or anything like that? >> Not... really. 

How organized would you say your living space is? >> My room is vaguely disorganised only because my storage options are limited and the space is small so things get out of hand really quickly. It does bother me but I try not to get too far into my head about it because honestly, it really isn’t that big a deal, I’m just crazy. The rest of the apartment is in various stages of array or disarray because Sparrow, lol.

What is one thing your ideal living situation would include? >> A big bathroom with a big glass-door shower with dark stone instead of white tile. (Or maybe no doors. Just the showerhead(s) and a sloped floor for proper drainage. I don’t know, I just have this badbrains complex about small white bathrooms with a lot of “hidden”/hard-to-clean nooks that’s really been ruining my life.)

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? >> Me. Hurr hurr. :B Uh... I can’t think of anything specific, you know, it’s just... life. Things about me and my development, things about how I can be a “good/better” (that’s not the word set I would use exactly, but you know what I mean... like “effective” but not quite so clinical) SO, things about being human and what it means for me to be human, things about my fear of death and how to deal with it, things about how to help myself since I can’t seem to get any professional help, adulting things like finances and stuff, and so on.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it? >> Hmm... I don’t know! Probably like... how much I miss NOLA. That ain’t important. But it feels important to me! :’(

Do you find it easier to forgive yourself or others? >> I don’t really think about forgiveness, it’s not a concept that has much use for me. I really do think it’s like... a religious sort of thing, like a ritualistic “I have let go of this thing for the moral good” kind of cathartic... rite??? I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve never felt the need to make a point to Forgive Someone. It always seemed like an extra step, like... I’ve already processed this pain and I’m learning how to accept myself as this new creature with this new scar and I’m moving on with my life... oh, wait, now I have to Forgive too? I’m already moving on! Isn’t that the same thing? Or like, if I let someone back into my life, then I have to Forgive them too? That isn’t the same thing???? It really confuses me and I know sometimes I just sound Dense or like I’m playing dumb or something but like... listen, I live in this brain, and it works the way it works. Sue me. And if I’m not wreaking bloody vengeance on you, then just... call it “forgiven” if you must, and let’s move on! Please, for our fathers’ sake! :’)

Have you ever had to call 911? For who/what reason? >> Yeah. My first boyfriend, Tommy, was an addict and overdosed twice in one week. I had to call the ambulance both times. (His GP had prescribed him a giant ass bottle of Vicodin for this “old injury” pain he complained of. When I say “giant”, I mean like... there were 150 pills in there. I remember this because the EMTs had me count how many were left, and it was something like 70. He’d only gotten them a few days prior, like a week prior at most. They made me count twice because it seemed so implausible to them. But nope! His GP was a fucking idiot and he was a career addict!!! It be’s like that!!!!!) (And THEN, to top it off, this fucking dude came over and brought drugs with him! And gave them to Tommy! He got his ass beat in the hospital elevator by Tommy’s best friend and threatened into disappearing, though, so that solved that problem. (I know because I was there.)) Great story, huh! I was also still in pharmacy tech school at this time! I did my homework in the ER! I don’t think I knew what sleep was for a week! ...I know there are a lot of exclamation points in here and it looks like I’m still upset, but actually I’m just fucking amazed at some of my experiences sometimes. Like... and yet! I’m still out here!!!!

What was the last book you purchased? Have you started reading it yet? >> The last book I bought was... hmm... I don’t remember. But the last book I was bought was A Book That Takes Its Time, which Hallie bought me because I thought his copy was so neat :’) <3 I read one chapter, I think (it’s not a reading-book as much as a, like... doing-book, a contemplating-book), but then other stuff took precedence so I haven’t gotten back to it yet. Soon! I promise :p

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? >> I do! I haven’t eaten it lately because I don’t eat a lot of heavy stuff in the summertime, but I love it in fall and winter. I usually just put ghee and cinnamon and honey or maple syrup in mine. Very filling, hehe.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? >> I was thinking about when I lived in 7F, and like... there’s no way I would ever, ever, want to go back to living in that rundown NYCHA apartment where I slept on the living room floor along with anywhere from 1 to 4 other people (sometimes up to 6 on random nights), where I had nothing to myself and I was at the whim of the leaseholder (who could be capricious sometimes, just like us all), and where I basically spent 90% of my time intoxicated in some way just to... not fall into the black pit of despair or boredom or loneliness. I don’t. I would be perfectly happy to never see it again barring maybe a couple of visits in the future, if that’s a thing that happens. But nostalgia is patently stupid, and it tries to form unnecessary attachments to every memory, and so sometimes I’m like “damn, them were the days” and like, really, Shadow? Really? Them were NOT the days. ...But one thing I will say-- I’ve got some great stories from living in that apartment.

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? >> I pay a moderate amount of attention... like, I could definitely stand to pay more attention, because I do find it interesting, but I just never make time for it, yanno. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to assume their influence in our lives, since we’re all star-stuff and ~cosmic relativity~ and... I don’t know. It just gels very well with my worldview (my universe-view, if you will) and I don’t see any reason to debunk it just for the sheer sake of... cynicism, or whatever gets people hard these days.

When was the last time you were afraid to tell someone something? >> I really don’t remember.

When was the last time something didn’t go the way you expected it would? >> When I went to the Love Wins thing and the Blue Bridge did NOT light up rainbow at nightfall!!!! I was mad as hell, lmao. I wanted to show Hallie.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? >> Hmm.... Silent Hill 4? That was a long time ago, though, so my memory of its difficulty might be skewed by exactly how bad I was at video games back then. Maybe WoW, because it’s an MMO with a lot of elements, and it took me a long time to figure out all those elements -- but once I did, it really helped me with other games, so I really enjoy how the learning curve is getting smoother and smoother with the more games I play. It’s kind of like muscle memory but also like... just pattern recognition, really.

What was the last thing you just couldn’t understand? >> Why people glorify terrible child-raising practices instead of thinking, “you know, maybe that was fucked up and maybe I shouldn’t repeat it”. I also still can’t fucking understand why Jay sent me a friend request on facebook. HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID!!!! WE ARE NOT FRIENDS

Other than this survey, what was the last question you were asked that you didn’t want to answer? >> The last question that I was asked that I didn’t want to answer.... yeah, I really don’t know??? I just have a hard time remembering this kind of thing unless there was specific reason for me to hang onto it and rehash it in my mind or whatever. idk! good survey tho. :B

[taiwanpuppetryproudthunderbolt]

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interview 15

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Richard Chamberlain - How he keeps the Faith in his Private Life

"Fame isn't the answer. The answer is allowing yourself to be who you are."

"I'm not interested in being a multimillionaire; I want to do the kind of work that interests me. When I was beginning, I wanted to do everything: films, TV, modern things, period things, classics, musical theatre, I wanted to make records and I also wanted to paint. I'm a medium with occasional goods. I took dance lessons, and I have discovered that you can't do everything, but I've done a lot of it."

In a company town, Hollywood, where a favorite indoor sport is to trash everyone, its almost impossible to find anyone with a sour word to mutter about Richard Chamberlain.

The erstwhile Dr. Kildare, perhaps unintentionally, has made a secondary career of winning friends. He is Mr. Nice Guy wherever you turn.

He is therefore going against casting in his current role of Father Ralph in the ABC-TV mini-series, The Thorn Birds. For those unfamiliar with the best-selling Colleen McCullough's supernovel, Fr. Ralph does just about everything a priest isn't supposed to from having money of his own - courtesy of the character played by Barbara Stanwyck - to not being obedient or chaste.

In fact, there are those who might consider him a bit of a rotter. Not so Richard. We're sitting in his offices at The Burbank Studios just a few months after he has finished production on this massive film. He is about to don another hat: that of executive producer on a TV movie for CBS, hence the office setting complete with a round black glass conference table and comfortable chairs. Only successful executive producers rate such perks. But enough business talk. We are here to discuss The Thorn Birds, how he feels about yet another blockbuster following his so-successful Shogun and his real life.

First of all, Richard doesn't believe that Father Ralph behaved in such a reprehensive manner. "He followed his destiny," he states. "That process brought him to a kind of humility he never would have found otherwise. He needed to do that. He needed to fall from grace. I'm not saying all priests do; Ralph was too in love with the image of a perfect priest, with the glamour," he explains.

Those sentences give one a clear indication of what makes Richard Chamberlain tick. He's a perfectionist, although certainly not a bore - far from it - but he does get inside the character he plays. That's what makes him such an outstanding actor.

For this part, he researched Catholicism with Father Terry Sweeney, a Jesuit priest. He visited a Jesuit novitiate and stayed over with the young novices. "I had never before been involved with organized religion, and I got the feeling of what it's like to be part of a group of people who put the love of God and humanity before personal happiness. It is unusual and rare. The novitiates I met are in the process of doing that," he learned.

The painstaking research aside, working in TheThorn Birds was a grueling six-month assignment. A large portion of the nine hours was filmed in the Simi Valley, north of Los Angeles, where an exact copy of the Australian Drogheda landscape has been built. And it was hot. Richard's priestly garb, donned in layers, must have been well nigh unbearable.

With a boyish grin, he acknowledges that it wasn't an actor's dream come true, commenting that the plastic collar cut into his neck a lot. Just another of the ordeals that an actor goes through for the sake of a great role.

And a great plum it is. "I wanted it when I first read the book four years ago. I salivated over the part; it was such a wonderful love story. I chased after the part for years. I told my agents I wanted to do it; at that time, it was to be a feature movie and it went through the hands of numerous producers. They had Robert Redford at the top of all their lists. So I waited it out, like I did with Shogun. When they realized it couldn't be a film and Warner Bros. decided on a mini-series, then I knew I was in a good position. The producers - David Wolper and Stan Margulies - wanted me - and it became a dream come true," he says comfortably.

The dream realized, Richard was in the same position as all other actors when a role is complete: he was out of a job. "I have the actor's habit of thinking once a job is over I'll never be hired again. I can get very anxious about not working. It doesn't go into anxiety attacks, but there is a sense of fickleness about the business. If I allow myself, I can worry a lot."

He didn't allow himself to this time. Instead he took off for two and a half weeks to his little house in Hawaii. He has what he describes as, "a place on the beach in the toolies where there is nothing to do except eat." Or so he says. It doesn't show on his trim waistline two weeks after he has returned.

"I had forgotten what it was like to spend a day doing nothing. I kept saying I must be doing something wrong, this can't be right. I had a vague guilty feeling. So I just lay there on the beach and I didn't do anything," he laughs. "I find it an incredibly healing experience to go there. It's a wonderful change from the madness around here," he motions to indicate Hollywood. "I'd like to go there more often. As it is, I get there twice a year if I'm lucky."

The house has a live-in caretaker who looks after the property while its famous owner is gone. It is also rented out, through an agent, so the tenants never know that they're sleeping in Richard Chamberlain's bed. Pity.

It would appear that Richard is indeed the golden boy we all envy, whose life has been comparatively uncluttered with the "stuff" that make most of us miserable. And looking at him, handsome, trim, relaxed, just a few flecks of gray in the beard and mustache he has grown for his next part, he reflects total peace and tranquility. He's sipping a cup of herb tea from a delicate Japanese cup, NOT imported from Japan as were many of his household furnishings. Shogun did leave an impression on him.

He admits of being happier with his life as it is today than in previous years.

"As I look back, one of my big motivations for working so hard in this business in the early times was to find for myself a kind of self-worth which I imagined I would see reflected from the world when I became famous. It didn't work." He laughs shortly. "Being well-known has worked in other ways, but it didn't make me particularly happy. When I first realized that wasn't gonna work, I found other ways to work on myself, through Gestalt therapy, and working with Dr. Brugh Joy (a world-renowned metaphysician who gave up his medical practice to work with groups at his establishment in California's Lucerne Valley. Richard brought the film rights to Dr. Joy's book, Joy's Way, three years ago, and has a contract to produce and star in the story for CBS. He hopes to get it under way later this year.)

"Fame isn't the answer. The answer is allowing yourself to be who you are. I grew up at a time when certain values were deeply impressed upon children: in school and at home. There was a certain image to be maintained and a certain goal to be achieved."

One must bear in mind that Richard was born and raised in the rarefied atmosphere of Beverly Hills, where most of his friends at school were super-rich. His own father was a first salesman for a market fixture company, and then took over the firm. But he still wasn't raised in an atmosphere of wealth.

He became interested in acting while he was in college, but recalls, "My family wasn't enthused about my going into show business. They'd seen me in some college productions," he laughs. "I did want to go to college, but in my senior year I made a decision to take the gamble and get into acting. They didn't say 'don't do it'; they were supportive and they helped me, even though they didn't say 'Oh boy, this is terrific'."

His career proceeded normally: he studied with noted acting coach Jeff Corey, he got minor roles in a dozen TV shows, and in 1961 he got really lucky with Dr. Kildare. By the time that show had finished its run - there were 132 one-hour shows between 1961 and '65 and 57 half-hour episodes the following year - Richard Chamberlain was a big star. So big, he wondered if he'd live down his reputation of being the noble young doctor who did everything including make house calls.

He did what was then considered a rash step: he moved to England and worked in repertory. "I went to England because I felt it the best place to go and study. I had this real powerful hunch that I should go there and study. I was attracted to British theatre and I had amazing luck."

Indeed. He got raves for his role in a six-part adaptation of Henry James' Portrait of a Lady on the BBC. He appeared in Hamlet, The Madwoman of Chaillot, Julius Ceasar, and played composer Peter Tchaikovsky in the Music Lovers opposite Glenda Jackson. There was more Shakespeare, other classics, and when he played Aramis in two versions of The Three Musketeers followed by Cyrano de Bergerac, no one made anymore jokes about the boyish Dr. Kildare. Richard Chamberlain had arrived, as a serious actor of the theater and films. Deservedly so.

He is, of course, delighted that he listened to that powerful hunch, as he terms it. "I always try to listen to my inner voice. That seems to be one of life's most ironic essences: that very soft little voice of intuition is so easy to ignore, yet it's so often accurate. I always choose my roles intuitively. They appeal to me for reasons I couldn't say. I always have an answer as to why I choose a role, but the answer really is that it has a magnetic quality. Now, as a producer, I know that I read scripts looking for ways to make scenes work, and ideas that come up seemingly from nowhere. They just spring into my mind. It's not an intellectual process. Oh, it is to some extent, but it is largely emotional and intuitive."

As noted, here is a man who is comfortable with himself and he doesn't have to prove anything anymore. He's done that. So, when asked how he can top the role of Father Ralph, he says easily, "I don't think in terms of topping things. Everything is different and real to me. My next movie, titled By Reason of Insanity is for my own production company. I play a man named John Balt, who murdered his wife, spent years in an institution in therapy and is now back in society as a contributing member. In fact, he wrote his own life story, which this is. This story goes into areas I've never touched upon, so it's a vast challenge.”

"After Shogun and Thorn Birds, I find my interests are turning back to more ordinary parts - not that the John Balt story is ordinary, it isn't. He's an ordinary man who gets caught in an incredible vortex. Yes, I have leaned towards larger-than-life roles and that might have something to do with the fact that I have a very romantic nature. I didn't find life terribly interesting when I was a little kid. I hated school and I didn't like sports. I didn't like anything that anyone else liked. I felt out of it. It isn't that I didn't have friends. I did. And I had a pretty good time, but I was always fascinated by adventure movies. Especially Errol Flynn. But the other night when I couldn't sleep I turned on an old Errol Flynn movie and it was boring. It didn't hold up. The Three Musketeers and that kind of swashbuckling does, but not the one that I saw," he mock mourns.

Every actor has a dream role, and Richard has played such variegated parts - has he played it already or is his dream part still in the future?

"I think John Balt is as fascinating a part as I'll ever get. What are dream roles? Roles that call for words like depth and complexity, people who want things passionately and have to overcome tremendous obstacles to get them. My theory about John is that he wanted wholeness in his life that he unconsciously felt wasn't there. I think murdering his wife was unnecessary, but who am I to say that? He was living a life complying to images. He had an image of manhood, an image of the writer, of the husband and father, and he never said 'Who am I, what kind of man am I, what kind of father, do I love my children?'"

"Who am I?" Richard repeats the question. "I'm beginning to get answers at long last. What I am is an ever-changing alive being, who is not an image, who is not consistent, and I'm beginning to allow myself to BE instead of trying to be consistent and trying to comply to images. Images such an American hang-up. And so here I am in a business where images are more powerful than almost anyplace else except sports. I have found that I have warmth and lovingness and creativity. I might have doubted that before. I'm much more comfortable with people, much more willing to speak my mind. I don't have to try to manipulate people into liking me. I don't. I thought that I did." He is very thoughtful now and seems to enjoy looking within.

What are his long-range goals these days after 20-plus years of a good and rewarding career?

"I've done some satisfying work in the theatre, and I'd like to do more but I find it difficult to find the time. I want to continue along the lines I've been pursuing. I really like what I've been doing. I like my mobility in TV, I want more emphasis in films. I think I'm ready for that."

"And I like my life. I've finally created a home that I really love. I've had several houses, but I just remodeled this one - in a quiet canyon street, and it's just perfect for me. It's slightly Oriental, slightly Japanese. I brought back a lot of stuff from Shogun."

And who lives in this perfect house?

Just Richard Chamberlain and his pals. "I have two dogs," he says with all the love in the world in his voice. "Two Dalmatians: Jessie the Bandit Queen and Billy Boy."

And what does Jessie steal to merit that colorful name?

"My heart," he says in a tone that any animal-lover can recognize.

And so, then, one knows that Richard Chamberlain, a really happy man, does indeed have it all.

© 1983 Isobel Silden

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http://www.richard-chamberlain.co.uk/online.htm

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interview 32

Dick Diagnoses Dick His candid answers to 55 probing questions

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[lynchgirl90]

#TwinPeaks Star Dana Ashbrook on Bobby’s Redemption, Learning to Cry on Cue, and Why David Lynch Is So ‘Classy’

By Devon Ivie

Of all the characters who returned to Showtime’s Twin Peaks revival, perhaps none have been met with a more surprising hero’s welcome than Bobby Briggs. In the 25 years since we last saw him, the former floppy-haired teen punk with a knack for mischief has climbed the ranks to become an esteemed deputy at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department, working alongside Deputy Hawk and Sheriff Truman to alleviate a drug epidemic plaguing the area. However, the day-to-day operations of busting the drug trade are soon given a backseat in favor of curious intel about the long-disappeared FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, which comes from a special message via Bobby’s father, Major Garland Briggs, from beyond the grave. Bobby, and only Bobby, can decipher the code that the Major wrote and stored in a chair for safekeeping.

Of all the characters who returned to Showtime’s Twin Peaks revival, perhaps none have been met with a more surprising hero’s welcome than Bobby Briggs. In the 25 years since we last saw him, the former floppy-haired teen punk with a knack for mischief has climbed the ranks to become an esteemed deputy at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Department, working alongside Deputy Hawk and Sheriff Truman to alleviate a drug epidemic plaguing the area. However, the day-to-day operations of busting the drug trade are soon given a backseat in favor of curious intel about the long-disappeared FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, which comes from a special message via Bobby’s father, Major Garland Briggs, from beyond the grave. Bobby, and only Bobby, can decipher the code that the Major wrote and stored in a chair for safekeeping.

“Somehow he knew that it would all turn out well,” Bobby’s mother, Betty, explains in a particularly poignant scene in episode nine. “He saw this life for you. Your father never lost faith in you.” The road to finding the truth about Agent Cooper and his doppelgänger may soon lie in the hands of this reformed deputy. Earlier today, Vulture called up the very affable Dana Ashbrook to discuss Bobby’s evolution on Twin Peaks, the art of crying on cue, and his “salt-of-the-earth” pal Robert Forster, who plays Truman.

After episode nine, my friends and I decided that Bobby has had the most wonderful arc in Twin Peaks so far.

That’s great. I never know what order things are. I knew clearly that Bobby became a cop and all that stuff, but I didn’t think anything outside of that. I didn’t think about how it was going to be perceived, so it’s funny to see how it falls into place and hear people’s reactions. They get a little flavor of the old Twin Peaks in there with a little twist! People seem to be diggin’ that. I’m just so pleased and thrilled that people like the show. I think it’s a work of art.

I wish it was eligible for Emmy consideration this year!

I’m not that up in all of that stuff, admittedly, but yeah. It’s fun when that kind of thing happens. That recognition would be amazing for the show.

A few of the other cast members told me about different ways David Lynch informed them that the show would be returning. How did you personally find out? Sheryl Lee and I were going to London to a U.K. Twin Peaks festival. She was going from Los Angeles and I was going from New York, and we were texting back and forth when she was getting on the plane. I was like, “Cool, see you soon in London, blah blah blah.” We’d heard whispers of things — I think the tweet about the gum coming back in style had come out already — so there were frenzied whispers going around. Sheryl talked to David when she was in the car on the way to the airport, and he said, “Yeah, it’s gonna actually happen, and you’re gonna be a part of it.” I don’t know their exact conversation, but that was the extent of it. She said, “Jeez, I’m gonna go see Dana in a few hours — should I tell him that he’s in it, or is he not in it?!”David was like, “Yeah, tell him he’s in it!” [Laughs.] She told me when I got to London, and we told the people at the U.K. festival that we were at least going to be a part of it. I had no idea in what capacity, of course. I would’ve done anything. I would’ve been a PA on it, honestly. I was lucky that I was able to be anything. It’s been so much fun to see all of the people doing their thing together. I’m like, “Oh my God, there’s Tim Roth, one of my favorite actors, and he’s just popped up!”

I’d argue that Bobby is channeling the most Twin Peaks nostalgia after Agent Cooper, since he’s been given the most development as a character. What does it mean to you that he’s now a deputy at the sheriff’s department?

It’s fun that I get to do the evolution of Bobby. The fact that I’m a cop now instead of some degenerate in the town is great. It’s hard to put into words, honestly. I think it’s a wonderful evolution of a character. That scene that Bobby and the Major had in season two, where he describes Bobby’s future, had a very strong impact, and was a beautifully written scene by Mark [Frost.] It’s a good and realistic payoff that he’s a cop.

Were you worried that Bobby would be a punk in his adult life?

No. [Laughs.] I speculated as soon as I knew that I was going to be in the revival. All of my friends and my wife and anybody who knew the show were speculating about what happened to Bobby. Did he put on a bunch of weight? There was a bunch of funny stuff floating around. It was as fun for me as it was for anybody else to see what their ideas for Bobby were.

Why do you think the audience responded to Bobby so strongly?

I really don’t know. All I know is that you get what was written. [Laughs.] I got very lucky that they wrote me what they wrote me. It’s sheer dumb luck, honestly. Who knows what’s to come for all of those returning characters — we’re only halfway through. Who knows. Bobby’s been a taste of the old Twin Peaks and got a good character evolution there, that’s probably it. But that’s only the first nine episodes! I’m so excited to see it, because I have no idea what happens with other characters. You haven’t even seen Audrey yet. There’s much more to come, which I’m as excited for as a fan.

Well, I’ll cross my fingers that you’re not a dirty cop like Chad. [Laughs.] I’ll only say that I’m excited to see what comes out, that’s for sure.

You’ve had two weeping scenes so far, with Bobby tearing up when he sees Laura Palmer’s photo, and when his mom tells him about the Major’s prophecy for his future. What’s the best trick you’ve learned about crying on cue?

I’m the new Andy. [Laughs.] Crying has always been hit-or-miss for me. You just gotta put yourself in the situation that the character’s in and do a little imagination about it. There’s a little bit of menthol that can be sprayed in your eyes to help you get going. It helps when you’re feeling it and makes it a little more realistic if you feel real emotion. It’s easy when you feel comfortable in a situation. With David, it’s just the most comfortable acting situation you could possibly be in. I mean, look at what Matthew Lillard had to do! He’s the man, he’s amazing! He had to wail and scream!

And talk about scuba diving!

While he’s screaming and crying! It’s always a challenge and always fun to see how it comes out. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

The crux of the ninth episode hinges on the Major’s message to his son, which can only be opened and deciphered by Bobby. Could you have imagined a more full-circle moment?

It’s crazy, because I miss Don [S. Davis] a lot. [Editor’s note: Davis, who played Major Briggs, died in 2008.] I love that guy. He was such a fantastic actor and such a fantastic person. I really miss that aspect of working with him. When we filmed that diner scene 25 years ago, he made it so much more powerful and he gave me so much to work off of. I was just a young guy starting out, and he would help me out. A great actor in every sense of the word. I really miss him when I do those scenes. It was also wonderful to hang out with Don after we wrapped filming, too. We would go to Twin Peaks festivals and he was there, and I got to know him really well on a social level. He was a great guy. As far as the character, there was a similarity in real life, because Don had a great influence on me as a young actor. That translated to the on-screen moments.

I’m amazed at how flawlessly the deceased actors have been given their due on-screen. The Major and BOB still get a significant amount of narrative action, plus those moving scenes with the Log Lady before Catherine E. Coulson passed away.

David has paid homage to and honored those people so beautifully. And we’ve lost a lot of people since the beginning. It’s a tearjerker. Catherine was really hard for me particularly and everybody else, too. She was one of David’s really dearest friends, and that all went down while we were working. That was pretty, pretty heavy. I loved the way that she got to be in it, because she loved the show and being the Log Lady. She kept that log with her. She was in charge of the log. She was a beautiful person and it was devastating for everybody. We were actually working when that all went down, so to see how David worked to ensure she was in it was heart-wrenching. The fact that those other actors were factored in, and in such a big way, was beautiful. I have no idea how he did it. David makes it classy. He doesn’t do it in any sort of tacky or exploitative or weird way. He’s a classy guy. Catherine was one of his oldest and dearest friends. It was tough on everybody.

Do you think Bobby will be receptive to the supernatural elements of the town, just like his father?

Oh jeez, I don’t know. I’m not sure on that one. It’s only going to be answered by watchinggggg!

Well, you looked like you had a lot of fun breaking open that metal vial!

That was a very fun scene to do, for sure. It’s even more fun having Robert Forster and Michael Horse right next to me. How can you beat that? How can you beat that?! Robert! Forster! I mean, come on.

It’s a bummer that Michael Ontkean didn’t return, but Robert is a legend. He’s honestly one of the most salt-of-the-earth, best guys I’ve ever met. I text him every once in a while, it’s really funny. All of the police stuff is a joy to shoot because he’s new on the force, too. Sheriff Truman and Bobby are the two new guys. Andy and Hawk have been on the force for a while, so we’re the Sheriff’s Department newbies.

Is Robert good at texting for a 70-year-old?

He’s spot-on. He’s sharp as a tack, that guy. I used to see him in the hotel while we were filming; he would be sitting in the common area and going over the next day’s work and eating dinner. He’s the best. He’s an inspiration. If I could emulate his career, I’d be very happy.

Is there any chance that Bobby and Shelly’s relationship has survived over the past 25 years?

Oh, yeah, I’d float the possibility. Sure. Their relationship could be stronger than ever. Who knows. [Sings.] Who knowsssss!

Link (TP)

[ayeletgalena]

Bris Speech for Gabriel Solomon (Gavi) Galena

“Angels All Around” - Lincoln Square Synagogue 5/30/19 

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So I was walking to shul this morning and I saw a watch store – with a big watch in the window. I walked in thinking I could get my watch fixed before the bris. The man behind the desk said, “Sorry sir, this is a mohel office – I’m a mohel, my father, my grandfather... in short, we’re all mohels.”  

“So you can't fix my watch?” The mohel responds abruptly “No”. 

So I ask while leaving, “So why then is there a big watch in the window if this is a mohel office?”

He responds, “And what exactly would you like us to put in the window....?”

Ha, I mean how many times do you get to do a Mohel Joke? I heard Seth Rogen got his start writing mohel jokes.....

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So anyways, thank you Rabbis, friends & family for being here to welcome our little malach (malach means angel) Dovid Gavriel...

spoiler alert: We’re calling him Gavi…. I like the alliteration in a newscaster voice: “I’m Gavi Galena, The 10 O’Clock News” 

….A special thank you from myself and Hindy to the grandparents: Rabbi Reuben Poupko & Mindy, Bobby & Arna Fisher, and my mom Rita Lourie Galena for everything we know you do ...and even more for what we don’t know. It’s so special to have the blessing of grandparents on this special day as our Gavi joins the tribe.

Also to our siblings here and not here: Adina, Sarah, Benj, Isaac and Yael, Avi/Shifra, Tamar/Elliot, Ezy/Chany and Jen/David, Ari/Elyssa and Amy & Ben Fisher, Ben actually here from Chicago, thank you!

I say if the number of Poupko WhatsApps is an indication of love, this kid is set for life.  

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So to talk about our little angel, in Hebrew Dovid Gavriel, in English Gabriel Solomon. I’d like to point to his two great grandfathers - Grandpa David Panar and Zayde Solomon Galena of blessed memory who he is named after.

This is a malach/melech (angel/king) theme – so the names David and Solomon. Two kings, standing beside you right now little Gavi.

First to the Hebrew. Dovid - Hindy’s famous grandpa Dave Panar. Arna’s incredible gentleman of a father who embodied integrity & ingenuity.  A mechanical engineer and later professor for over 25 years at the University of Alberta - he specialized in building, fixing and flying aircraft engines. He was trained first during WW2, he later found himself in Israel right before the war of Independence, and Israel had no airforce or fighter planes.

Miraculously, like everything in Israel’s history, out of the sky an Egyptian fighter jet crash lands on the Tel Aviv beach and the Israeli’s thought, heck we might be able to use this plane. In came David, who guided the search for building parts and then eventually figured out how to built Israel’s first fighter plane - The “Black Spit" -- critical to Israel’s success in the War of Independence. He gave Israel their wings. 

He went on to become a dedicated, beloved, and inspiring teacher and storyteller, so much like his daughter, Hindy’s mother Arna embodies, through her innovative educational work at Wexner Heritage and the University of Cincinnati. Both giving their students the profound unexpected inspiration, the angelic wings to go out there and soar.

So for Gavi, the wings of Israel were built on the back of your great grandpa David Panar and they are passed on to you little Gavi, to wear with pride, wisdom, strength & courage.

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The next Melach is King Solomon, My Zayde of Worcester Massachusetts. Basically the exact opposite. He was a big, big guy, with an even bigger Massachusetts accent, and after serving in WW2 he took over his dad’s garbage business and almost everyone in town knew him. He could have easily been cast in the Sporano’s - “Solly Baby!” they would say when he appeared, The Jewish garbage & rubbish man. He cleaned up messes all around town. In fact, my year in Israel I get to yeshiva and when I say my name an older rebbe stands up and says what I hope is some connection to Philly or Twins etc, “Galena? Is your grandfather the famous garbage man in Worcester?” Nachas I never wanted but Galena’s always somehow make a name for themselves. 

My dad and our Zayde would always call us “his helpers” -- his literal malachim, surrounding him with love. And I find myself doing the same with my own children, my helpers.

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Then the final malach - the Gavriel -  is the name we added. Gavriel is one of the archangels in the Torah, meaning God is my strength, my courage, my hero.

Funny thing about angels - my son Akiva once saw a Christmas special on TV and asked me about angels, he said so is Santa invisible? I said yes not really listening. Like Moshiach? I turn around um NO. Oh more like Hashem?? NOOO. So anyways I have some educational work to do but you get the point.  It’s a weird concept. Angels have one mission? They are invisible? They are holy? 

But when you look at who Gavriel is, he is kinda the badass angel. He represents justice, strength might, din. 

He is sorta the Fixer, the Michael Clayton, he cleans up messes. But Gavriel is all about the courage to do and fight for what is right. The original Avenger. He burns things down to build things back up. 

Side note: Gavriel is also apparently the angel of fire, and since Gavi was born on Lag Ba’Omer we found this a fitting sign for his name. Gavriel’s fire, not like Shimon bar Yochai’s fiery eyes, is often, in the end, used for the good of the story….Like the Dragon in Game of Thrones it can be fire for good (against white walkers) or fire for bad (women children in King’s Landing). Making hindy the mother of dragons..

Here are some Midrashic examples of the angel Gavriel interceding:

-Gavriel is one of 3 angels that visit Avraham after his bris, only to tell him he is off to destroy Sedom -He points Yosef in the right direction of his brothers, only so they can sell him into slavery -He collects the signs Yehuda gave Tamar only so she can confirm his paternity -He castrates Potifar (bris theme) so his wife needs Yosef, only to throw him in jail -He knocks out all the maidservants so Batya can pull out baby Moshe from the basket - He pushes baby Moshe’s hand to choose the burning hot coal instead of the gold, only to cause lisp    -He puts a tail on Vashti so she cant come out for Achashveirosh, 

There are many more.  It’s wild. Angels are nowhere and everywhere. And all these instances seem bad or painful, but in the long term ended up being the most critical pivot in our Jewish narrative.

And I ask myself - how many angels have done minor redirects in our lives? I turn left not right, meet this new person or see this old face. How many angels are in this beautiful shul alone listening. 

What I call Invisible Interventions. Little things change the course of the story. The faith in seeing the long of the story. This is the Gevura.

As the famous question around this time asks: Why is the chapter about Har Sinai next to the laws of Shmita? What’s one have to do with the other?

Because real strength is not just doing all the mitzvot- it’s the faith in waiting, holding off, the perseverance of staying the course for a year - and for some, many years. I think about on a personal level: How many needles, doctors, IVFs, retrievals did Hindy go through for this baby to get to this very moment? How many angels intervened? To believe that holding strong, come what may, is a real strength.

Azeh Ho Gibor? Hakovesh et yitzro... When do we feel most holy like angels? at the end of Yom Kippur, by holding off, by not eating. Neilah we are like angels. It’s the holding off that allows us to soar.

In our story - If our son Akiva represents comfort from loss, and Talia our blessing, Gavi represents our return of being fearless. The courage to continue. To move forward.

We have been blessed to be surrounded by angels on all four sides, as the song goes, with Rafael healing and comfort behind us ...and now Gavriel by our side. 

And as I think we can all feel in this room, if we close our eyes – V’al Roshi, V’Al Roshi - Shechina’s Kail, God’s presence, embracing us holding us, like a Rabbi Poupko classic bearhug.

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One final interpretation of angels is in Pirkei Avos, and with this, I’ll close, it says that with each and every prayer or good deed a person does, you create an advocate, an angel. Angels are created by doing good. 

And what seems like yesterday, with the loss of our first star, angel Ayelet, still burning bright guiding us – like the torch of Lag Ba’omer...I don’t know the number of angels/advocates created by each of you here and our Ayelet Nation beyond – you have gotten us this far, your prayers/deeds were advocates - and with the new strength of our new little helper Gavi, I know we will continue to shine. 

May we all be zocheh today, tomorrow to go out there and keep creating angels… for ourselves, for others, and for our community - bimhayra vyamenu amen.

[sending-the-message]

My Wife Thinks I Sleepwalk (Part 12) by TuckandRoll91

“I,.. I, don’t kno—what?” I stammered, feeling like my eyes were about to pop right out of my skull.

“Now don’t go insulting my intelligence.” Cathy smiled at me, “That reaction was better than a written confession.” She stood, “We should go somewhere we can talk, privately.”

I watched, dumbfounded, as she went to the bedroom door and knocked lightly. It opened a crack. “David and I are going to go for a little walk, just to talk, get to know each other better.”

I heard indistinct, angry grumbling from Claire, and Sarah answered, “That would probably be a really good idea.”

Cathy closed the door. “Don’t worry, She’ll calm down.”

I wasn’t worried. I knew I hadn’t torpedoed our relationship, yet, because, well, I could still remember our daughter.

Security was damned near airtight around my residence hall. Didn’t see a single camera or reporter attempting to blend in with the student population. There were plenty of uniformed Campus and City police about though. I felt more than one sideways glance, and heard more than one whisper as Cathy and I made our way to a small sitting area outside, bordered by tall, evergreen shrubs.

Someone had thrown a pair of sweats and a t-shirt at me when I knocked on the bedroom door and told Claire and Sarah that I needed to get some clothes.

Being Spring Break, there weren’t nearly as many students about as there would be normally, and it was still pretty chilly outside. I’d grabbed a jacket, and Cathy didn’t seem bothered by it. We sat down opposite each other on the little concrete half moon benches in the alcove.

“Now,” Cathy began, “Are you, in the right place?”

“Yes.” I sighed, “How do you know about all this?

“Educated guess, really,” She began. “Did Claire ever tell you what I used to do for a living?”

“No.” It had never come up, I just knew both her parents were semi-retired. They’d started later than mine, and were both older than my father.

“I was a special investigator for the State Police of [Redacted]. I specialized in missing persons cases.”

I blinked at her.

“Oh, surely that can’t surprise you that much, an enlightened young man like you. A Woman, a Cop?” She grinned at me, and feigned a little gasp. Then she turned serious for a moment. “Jack’s a little older than me. Six years to be exact. And you’re not the only one named for a departed relative. Claire, well, my friend, Claire, was Jack’s little sister.” She explained. “She was my best friend growing up, We were as close as sisters, told each other everything. We did the sleep overs, gossiped about boys, the whole thing. But the planned sleepovers, they were always at her house.” Cathy paused, and took a breath, and stared off into space. “Around about 13, she started acting strangely, like she was afraid of something, all the time. She would show up at my bedroom window, in the middle of the night, and ask if she could stay over.” Cathy looked back at me. “When I woke up, she would be gone. When I would see her at school, she would act surprised, that I wanted to know where she went, then she would lie to me. We never lied to each other before.” She stopped and said, “Does any of this sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” I answered quietly “Yeah, it does.”

“When she was sixteen, Claire, Jack’s sister, began acting even more erratic, like she was terrified, night and day. I was able to pry it out of her after she’d stayed awake for three days, Too scared to go to sleep. Jack helped, as he was home from school at the time. This school, actually.”

“She told you?” That was one thing, I knew, instinctively, I was not supposed to do.

“She told us, yes.” Cathy took another deep breath, “She told us, that sometimes, when she fell asleep, she would wake up in the past. And that someone was trying to hurt her.” She paused, “A tall man, always well-dressed, with cold blue eyes, and grey hair.”

A great, yawning realization opened up before me. He killed the wrong Claire Sullivan My hands were shaking. “Wh-what did you do?”

“Naturally, we told her parents,” Cathy said, “Who would believe such a thing? The took her to a psychiatrist, then a psychologist. She was diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic, and they both made the recommendation that she be committed. Jack’s parents, who only wanted their daughter well, agreed.” Cathy stopped, and dabbed at her eyes. “About a month later, she vanished from her room at the hospital. The door was still locked, all of her things left behind, she didn’t even take her shoes.” Cathy sighed, “She was just gone, without a trace. And I can’t shake the feeling that I got my best friend killed, by refusing to believe her.”

“She shouldn’t have told you,” I said immediately, without thinking, “You can’t tell anyone!” I said in a harsh whisper.

Cathy shot me a sharp look, then continued her story. “Throughout my career, I used my access to find similar unsolved cases, The night terrors, the fearful behavior, children that had been seen in two different places at about the same time.” She paused, “I remembered one of those cases, when My Claire, our Claire, called home to tell me about the wonderful young man she’d met.” She smiled, slightly, and looked at me. “The guarded, reserved, sweet and gentle boy named David Dempsey. That’s when your Uncle’s case came to mind. I initially paid it no mind, because, let’s be honest, both are fairly common names. When she called again, concerned about how you would sometimes wake up in an absolute panic, hysterical, or outright inconsolable, I told her to be there for you, like I should have been there for My friend, Claire.”

“Does she..slip?” I asked, my whole body trembling now.

“Is that what you call it?” She asked, rhetorically, then said, “No. I was able to deduce, with some degree of certainty, that your…condition, does run in families, thankfully whatever latent gene causes it was never awakened in my daughter.” She paused again, “Yours, on the other hand—“

I almost passed out, Cathy caught me as I started to fall off the bench, “Now don’t go wrecking that face, Claire would never forgive me!” She chided me.

“He’s not after Claire,” I swallowed, hard, nearly choking on the words, “Or me, he’s after…”

“Me.” My daughter, answered, as she entered the evergreen cave of the alcove. “Hi, Nana.” She offered me a sympathetic smile. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Why? Why is he after you?”

“He is attacking my past, in hopes of changing it enough that I never exist.” She said, unable to meet my eyes. “Because I destroyed his future.” She raised her gaze to meet mine.

Cathy excused herself, sensing that I wasn’t comfortable talking about this with her there. She stopped and patted my daughter, her Granddaughter, on the arm and said, “Come see me before you leave.”

She nodded.

I waited until she was out of earshot before “What do you mean, you ‘destroyed his future?’”

“I can’t tell you that, Dad. I wish I could, you know the rules, or you will.” She sat down next to me and hugged me, “I don’t want you to…well, become you, too fast, Dad.”

I gave her a look.

“Like Grandpa told you, when you guys were clearing the Lake Cabin: If you knock the right board out, at the right time, the whole thing comes down. Whoever he is, he’s looking for that board.” She paused, “Right now, you’re the version of you Mom fell in love with, and not the version She loves when I’m from, and trust me, I know both, you’re almost two completely different people.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“You…this you,” She poked me in the chest, “You need to be him for a little while longer, is all.” She smiled, “Besides, I kinda like this you. I mean, compared to the Dad that raised and trained me, you’re dumb as a brick, But you’re….warmer.” She choked up a bit, “And you’re not just my Dad. You’re my friend. I don’t have many of those.”

“It does get lonely, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Does Jack know?”

“No, I didn’t even tell Nana. She just kind of figured it out.” She said with a distant smile, “She’s good at that.”

“You could have warned me, by the way.”

She stood and said, “And deprive myself of one of my favorite family reunion stories? Hell no.” She grinned that impish grin, “By the way, You need to thank Aunt Sarah.”

I gave her a look.

“Because whatever she is saying to Mom right now, is the only reason you’re not going to find yourself newly single when you go back in there. At least, that’s how Mom tells it.”

“Angel,” I said as she turned away. She stopped and looked back at me, a nostalgic smile spreading across her face. “I’m sorry…for what I made you.”

“You used to call me that when I was little.” She was still smiling, “And don’t be; All you did was teach me how to protect myself.”

She turned to go, again, when I pleaded, “Tell me his name.”

She didn’t break stride, and replied, “You know I can’t do that.”

It was a lot to take in, to say the least. How far back was he going? He was tormenting Jack’s sister to the point she was locked up in what was basically a deathtrap for someone like us, and mucking about with our histories, how much damage had he already done?

He killed the wrong Claire Sullivan I thought again, for what? Something my daughter had done to him? It didn’t matter though, I was already working on a plan, one my daughter would not approve of, but that didn’t matter, I had to save her mother, and by extension, her.

I needed medical textbooks. But first, I needed to patch things up with Claire.

Sarah walked out into the hall as I was headed back to my dorm room. She leveled a finger at me and announced, quietly “You owe me. Big. Like, Private Jet to Fiji, Big. And now I know you can afford it.”

“Thank You,” I said sincerely.

“Yeah, Yeah, going for coffee. You can get your own, you fucking jackass.” Sarah said as brushed past me.

The Lady Cop, standing guard a couple doors down, laughed under her breath.

When I opened the door, Claire was standing in the middle of the living room, her eyes puffy and her face tear streaked. “Baby—“

“No!” She aimed a finger at me, “You don’t get to ‘Baby’ me right now!”

“Claire, I love you, I’m sorry.”

“What were you thinking!?” Claire paced in a small circle, “It’s already not the best circumstances for you to meet my Dad and you come flying out of the bedroom and beat the shit out of him?”

“I wasn’t,” I said, for once, being completely honest with her. “I just, I just…panicked. I thought..”

“I know what you thought.” Some of the anger left her voice. “I love you,” She came closer and slid into my arms, “But, I am Still. Really. Fucking. Angry. At. You!” She pulled back slightly and punctuated each word with a punch to my shoulder. I let her, because I deserved it. Hell, I deserved worse. “And to make matters worse, you been hiding something huge from me the entire time we’ve been together!”

I didn’t tell her I had to, and the only reason my dad bothered accumulating that much money is to set up a series of hidden, near impenetrable safehouses, across the country, that I could hide in when I slipped backwards in time. Instead, I told her, “I wanted to be sure. I wanted to be sure you were with for me. You’re beautiful, and smart, and I love you more than I ever knew I could. I needed to be sure, because I never was before.” I explained. “I am now.”

We sank to the sofa, and she laid her head on my shoulder. “Good Answer.” She said as she curled up next to me. “I’m still mad, but that was a good answer.”

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, “I’ll smooth things over with your dad, too.”

“Let him stew for a bit. The way he was acting I think he may have deserved a little bit of that.”

“He was right about one thing, though; It’s not safe here. After the funeral, we need to go off the map for a bit.”

“What about Audrey?” She sat up ever so slightly, “We can’t just leave her alone.”

“We won’t. She and Sarah are coming with us.” I said. Because the if the Caches were bank vaults, The Lake Cabin was Fort Knox. It took Dad five years just to set up the various shell companies he used to acquire the assorted lots that made up the compound. Three square miles of heavily forested, mountainous terrain, and I knew every square inch, above and below. If the Man with the Ice Blue Eyes came after us, there, it would be his last mistake.

Part One: http://ift.tt/2uAVaOL

Part Two: http://ift.tt/2uWNQQd

Part Three: http://ift.tt/2tIazeU

Part Four: http://ift.tt/2w8aIcc

Part Five: http://ift.tt/2tPzJZ3

Part Six: http://ift.tt/2wgzgjg

Part Seven: http://ift.tt/2hqbgHQ

Part Eight: http://ift.tt/2hsjK1g

Part Nine: http://ift.tt/2utwFRJ

Part Ten: http://ift.tt/2veAuhp

Part Eleven: http://ift.tt/2wKu87f

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