#justine signature duster

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Here are 5 reasons why I believe that Robert is autistic as fuck. Enjoy!!@!!!! (yes I know noone will ever read this but I don't care :D )

1. Does not understand metaphores/phrases, and that sort of thing. Pretty common symptom for my fellow 'tism havers. Here's a few examples I can give for this without rewatching the episodes again.

• Firstly, when Justin says 'back in a blink!', Robert takes it literally and blinks, and gets confused as to why J's not back. He then says 'Oh, Justin can be so confusing sometimes.' showing that this is a reocurring thing that happens.

•Second example is a bit more of a silly one, when Justin says 'Ah, it's a piece of cake!' (meaning it's easy). And of course, Robert turns around, believing there is literally some cake lying around, probably since cake is his favourite food of all time aswell.

•When he's having a sleepover but doesn't understand what the word sleepover means so decides to literally sleep OVER Justin by leaning over his face

2. Stimming. JESUS CHRIST THIS ROBOT STIMS ALOT. Every series, every episode, pretty much constantly! I'm gonna list them all since there's quite alot of them..

• Subtlety tugging his blazer downwards with his hands ALOT. At first I thought he did it because it was positioned wrong on his body or something like that, but his blazer wasn't ever positioned wrong, and also the actor himself does the same thing in other roles he plays throughout cbeebies, sooo I'm pretty sure it's a stim of some sort

•Moving his thumbs down the sides of his RMP-1 Player. He did it in s1 more than the other ones, but there is no apparent reason for doing it other than it being a stim. Also Chris did it aswell when acting as Robert?? Maybe he saw Steve doing it so copied it to be more in-character lol

•Chewing. Common stim, and obvs he's not actually chewing anything other than the inside of his mouth. Does it alot, only in s6.

•And of course, the signature hand clapping whilst jumping up and down whenever he's excited one!

3. His humongous collection of feather dusters. Let's be real, no neurotypical person is going to collect those things! Collecting things (especially if the items are considered 'odd') is pretty common in autistic people (I personally have a collection of 14 straight sticks, 207 can tabs, and I used to have over 40 rubbers.. I have no idea why lol), so yes. Also in an episode he said he had over 5000(?) spanners and put them all into size order, and it was the best day of his life.... now that is an achievement.

4. His 'over-the-top' reactions to certain things, especially himself or the house getting messy. Common for NTs to (falsely) think autistic people overreact

•eg in s6ep4, when Robert gets a light splattering of goo on his outfit and face, he reacts quite strongly by pretty much shouting and then storming out of the room. When he returns he whispers to himself 'Right, you'll be fine', showing that he was clearly quite upset previously

•also in s5 'in the dog house'(? can't remember name), when theres a bunch of muddy pawprints all over the kitchen floor, Robert seems to start crying because of it, and again, leaves the room. (Also I hate Cats reaction to it, haven't watched it in a while but I swear she does this weird smile to Justin implying that she thinks R is being silly)

5. Special Interests. I guess Robert's main one is cleaning, since that's his entire personality basically! Also it correlates with why he loves collecting dusters. His other special interest is space for sure. In the stargazing episodes that are available to watch, especially in the most recent series, Robert is absolutely ecstatic about learning about it, for example when he learned that Uranus has rings, he was literally shouting it down the microphone whilst bouncing up and down!

And that, my dear non-existent viewers, is why the one and only Robert the Robert from Justin's House is autistic. He is such an icon frrr

[emeraldbirdcollector]

More flower language

Someone suggested that Neville would be the sort of person to declare his love entirely through Victorian flower language. I thought about it, and figured out why that would be necessary…

She hadn’t gone to the lake hoping to see him there. Of course she hadn’t. Ever since Hannah had come back to Hogwarts, everything had been upside down, wrong, and horrible, and the worst part had been the way he’d been avoiding her, cold and distant. So cold, after…she closed her eyes and nearly cried, remembering the way he’d hugged her the day they’d said goodbye, the day the horrible news came about her mother, the way he’d held on to her just a little too long, the way she’d treasured the memory of the way his arms had felt around her all year until she’d finally been able to come back….only to find that he’d seemed to have forgotten even that they were friends, let alone teetering on the verge of more. So she hadn’t expected him to be there in their safe, quiet place, where they’d spent so much time talking about everything and nothing.

But there he was, kneeling by the water, his attention focused intently on something in his hands. He put whatever it was down, softly, and lifted his hands, murmuring, in a voice Hannah could barely hear, “Go on, little guy. Be free. You’ll be safer here.”

The shape moved, in one great hop reaching the water and swimming away, and with a shock, Hannah recognized it. “You’re letting Trevor go?” she asked, horrified, forgetting the distance between them.

Neville’s head jerked around to see her, startled. He looked at her for a minute, a stunned expression on his face, and then gathered himself together and stood up, brushing the mud off of his robes. “Yeah. I had to.”

“But you love that toad! How can you…?” She broke off. “I’m sorry, Neville, that’s none of my business, I didn’t mean…”

“No. I mean, it’s all right.” He bit his lip and looked down for a moment, then looked back at her, straight into her eyes, as he had not done since she came back. “You should know this. Hannah, you know what the Carrows are like, you’ve seen them in action, right?”

She nodded, shuddering a bit. She was one of their favorite targets in her classes with them, thanks to her Muggle mother (oh, Mum, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, they killed you because of me), and she was desperately afraid for her Muggleborn friend Justin, somewhere out there in hiding with his family.

“They’re awful, they’re monsters, and we’ve got to stop them, keep them from doing any more damage than we can prevent until…well, until either Harry comes back or Voldemort comes for us or this whole thing comes to a head one way or another. And I’m a pureblood, I’m safer from them than most, so I’ve got to be one of the people standing up most visibly against them. They won’t hurt me so much - they know pure blood is rare, and they want to preserve as much of it as they can.”

“So you’re just going to throw yourself into danger based on that?” She felt her heart twist inside her, thinking of all the things they could do to him without outright killing him.

“Someone has to,” he said quietly, and at that moment she knew that the Hat had made no mistake, whatsoever, by placing him in Gryffindor.

He went on, his eyes firmly, intently on hers. “Trevor doesn’t have that protection, Hannah. And if the Carrows get the idea that they can use him to make me behave - if they get the idea there’s anyone I…really care about who doesn’t have that pureblood protection - they won’t hesitate to torture, even to break someone. Believe me, I know what Death Eaters are capable of, that way.” The corners of his lips quirked up in a bitter, humorless flash of a smile. “I can’t let them see that there’s anyone I…” he swallowed hard, “anyone I love who isn’t a pureblood, isn’t safe from them. Do you understand, Han?”

His voice was tender, soft, and she knew that they were no longer talking about Trevor. There was no way she could push out words past the choking lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat, but she nodded. She did understand. She wanted to throw herself at him, scream at him to stop this all now, keep himself safe, or at least let her fight at his side, not push her back into safety and make her watch them hurt him…but she nodded, hating herself for it.

He reached into the pocket of his robes, and pulled out a much-folded piece of parchment, which he handed to her. “Here. I was hoping I’d be able to give this to you discreetly at some point, and this seems to be as good a time as any. If the Carrows find it, it’s a bit of Herbology drawing practice. I…Hannah, please stay safe, please stay behind the scenes. I know you’ve got as much to fight for as anyone, I remember what they did to your Mum, and I know you’re as brave and capable as anyone in Dumbledore’s Army - but I also know that you’re better than any of us in Potions, and I know you’ve been taking informal lessons from Madame Pomfrey since Justin got Petrified second year, and that makes you invaluable as more than a fighter. We’re all going to get hurt at some point or another - we need you intact to help put us back together. We need you safe…I need you safe. Please, Han, stay safe.”

“We need you, too, you know.” Tears were welling in her eyes, she knew it, but she refused to let them fall in front of him.

“Not in the same way. I’ve got to be on the front lines. But Hannah, if I fall, if they get to me, I just wanted you to know…” He gestured at the parchment she was holding in her hands. “Remember that book Professor Sprout gave you before you went home last year. I’ll see you around.” And he slipped past her and darted off before she had a chance to register that he was leaving.

She looked after him, biting her lip. Damn it. He has to be the Merlin-cursed hero. Why couldn’t I have fallen for some nice, peaceful, unheroic Hufflepuff boy? And then she remembered Cedric, dead too soon precisely because he had been Hufflepuff’s champion, and Ernie, who had been practically spoiling for a fight in Justin’s defense the previous day in “Muggle Studies” class. It’s wartime. A peaceful, unheroic life is far too much to ask, even in Hufflepuff. Best go and borrow some more books from Madame Pomfrey. If I can’t keep them all out of danger, my friends and my family and my…Neville, I can damned well work on learning how to mend them when they get hurt.

She tucked the piece of parchment in the breast pocket of her robes, and headed back to the school. It wasn’t until later, after dinner, with Susan, Ernie and Megan engaged in a vigorous game of Exploding Snap in the Common Room, that she managed to get some time alone in the dormitory to open and read it. The page was full of flower drawings, in his usual meticulously-detailed style, and she puzzled over it for a moment before recalling the book Professor Sprout had given her. Finding its familiar white-and-lavender cover among the books in her trunk, she pulled out Flowers and Flirtations - A Look At Muggle Floral Language and began looking through it.

Let’s see, the first one’s a red tulip, that means…oh. She was glad no one was around, because she was certain she was blushing fiercely. Declaration of love. Her heart was threatening to hammer its way out of her chest, but it calmed down when she found the meaning of the next flower, a striped carnation. “I can’t be with you.” And the dead leaves mean something too, if I’m remembering right - yes, there it is, “sorrow.” Begonia and monkshood…here we are, begonia is “beware” and monkshood is, let’s see,  "a deadly foe is near.“ White heather around a pear branch - that’s “protection,” and the pear branch is my wand wood, so it’s me. And purple hyacinth - “forgive me.” The cherry branch is his wand wood - his signature, I guess.

Here, in private, she could let the tears fall, and they did. Oh, my heart, what if we never get a chance at this? What if they kill you before I can…oh, Merlin, Godric, Helga, whoever’s listening, please keep him safe!

But for now, her more practical self reminded her, better reply, so he knows how you feel, at least.

She didn’t notice the Fat Friar hovering over her shoulder, nor, wrapped up in her drawing as she was, did she feel it when he raised his hands in benediction over her and slipped away, smiling to himself.

“Neville Longbottom, stop that pacing this instant. You’re driving me nuts.” Ginny Weasley scolded, pointing her quill at him in a threatening manner. “Sorry, Gin.” He ran his hands through his hair and flopped down in an armchair next to hers, looking moodily at the fire.

“What’s eating you, anyway?” she asked curiously.

“I’ve done something ridiculously stupid, that’s all, and I’m afraid it was all for nothing.”

“Stupid as in, ‘liable to get my older brothers to laugh at you,’ or stupid as in ‘liable to get us all killed by the Carrows?’”

“Liable to get Hannah in danger, if any of the Carrows can read Muggle flower language.”

Ginny leaned forward conspiratorily, her eyes sparkling. “You sent her a love letter, didn’t you.” His blush was all the confirmation she needed. “So spill. What did she say?”

“I haven’t heard back from her yet. For all I know, she’s struggling to find a way to let me down gently. She should, anyway. If the Carrows ever find out…oh, Ginny, I’m an idiot, and a selfish idiot to boot. They’ll hurt her.”

“They’re not going to find out. They don’t deign to interest themselves in anything Muggleish, you know. And you know we’re all at risk, every day, and the likelihood that any of us are going to survive this year is…well, smaller than we’d all like it to be. If you end up dead, and you’ve never told her…”

“Maybe it would have been better that way. I don’t know, Gin, I don’t. Nothing’s clear anymore.”

She put a sympathetic hand on his arm. “Don’t I know it.”

Just then, Dobby came through, on his usual evening rounds, duster in hand. He approached Neville and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Good evening, Master Longbottom, Mistress Weasley. Dobby has a note for Master Longbottom, from Nibsy, who says it is from Mistress Abbott, but not to tell the Carrows. Dobby has not. Dobby will not.” He held out a folded square of parchment, and then went on his way, humming cheerfully as he went.

Ginny raised her eyebrows teasingly at Neville, who was blushing again as he opened the parchment. There were fewer pictures on this one than on the one he had sent her, but the first flower of all made him breathe a sigh of deep relief. Ambrosia. Your love is returned. Whatever else happens, I have that.

Ginny saw the sigh, and grinned at him. “It’s all right, then? All right, I’ll leave you alone to get all sentimental over it, while I go pretend I can write to Harry.” The last sentence came out with more bitterness than she had intended, because she tried to soften it with a smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“He’s out there, Gin. He’s out there, and safe, and he’ll come back. I know it.”

“I hope so. Because otherwise I’m going to have to hunt him down and kill him, and I don’t want that.” She tossed her red hair behind her, and left for the girls’ dorm.

Neville shook his head ruefully at her, then turned back to the note. Ambrosia, then azalea- what’s azalea? He headed into the boys’ dorm, and found the book under his bed. “Look after yourself for me.” I’ll do my best. For you.  You give me something to live for, anyway. And next…garlic and mistletoe, which are…“courage,” and “surmounting difficulties.” And then daisy twined with her wand wood for a signature, that’s “loyal love”, I don’t even have to look that one up. Hannah, love, when this is all over, I swear to you, I’ll be the most devoted sweetheart you could ever want. Just hold out for me, please.

Pomona Sprout settled herself in her office chair, and took a deep breath, inhaling the rich green scent that pervaded her greenhouses, living quarters, and office space alike. Another long day over, and no permanent damage done to any of my children, at least. But I still want the Carrows to writhe in the deepest pits of Hell for all eternity. She shuddered, the taste of swallowed fury burning acid in the back of her throat.

The Fat Friar slipped through the door, a kindly smile on his placid face. “I have done my rounds for the evening - all is as well as can be, and the children are nicely settled in. And there is a bit of gossip that may be a comfort to you, if you like to hear it.”

“At this point, anything that promises a bit of comfort is a godsend, Brother Joseph, and you know it. Tell me.”

“Remember that book you gave to my little Abbott and to Longbottom last year, before little Abbott left to see about her mother’s funeral?”

“Yes, of course. I was rather hoping they’d make use of it while she was gone, but…well, things happened.”

“I rather think they have, actually. At least, I caught her reading a note in what looked to be his drawing style, and made out a red tulip thereon, and the flower she was drawing in response was most decidedly ambrosia.”

Sprout beamed happily. “So love declared, and returned..” She paused a bit, less happily. “Let’s hope they have sense enough to keep it from the Carrows.”

“If they had not, they would have written in plain English. But with luck, when this is all over…”

“When this is all over, we’ll dance at their wedding. If we can ensure the pair of them survive…such a sweet pair they are, too…” She dabbed her eyes, trying to keep the sudden tears from falling.

“Take heart, Pomona, dear, and have faith. We’ll see them through.”

“We had better. He’s like the son I never had, you know, such a talent for Herbology, and the spitting image of poor dear Alice…she would be so proud of him, you know, and Frank too.”

“They would indeed, and if a Friar were permitted to have a daughter, it would be my dear little Abbott. She has just the right sort of heart for him, too, bright and warm and generous with her love as she is. We’ll see them wed one day, I’ll warrant, and when we do, mind you bring extra handkerchiefs, for I suspect you will weep for joy the entire time.”

“That I will, and better tears than I’ve been crying lately, I tell you.” She smiled ruefully at him. “So which of you have been spying on the Carrows this week, and is there any news in that direction?”

“Oh, yes, Sir Nicholas says…” and the conversation drifted quietly to other topics, and to plans to keep their children safe until the war was won.  

[dawnajaynes32]

We've Been Served

 We’ve Been Served

By Tom Wachunas

“…Ever just the same /Ever a surprise/Ever as before/

Ever just as sure…”  - lyrics from Beauty and the Beast

    With its current production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, directed by Jonathan Tisevich, the Players Guild Theatre offers yet another pièce de résistance of theatrical art. In keeping with the ebullient spirit of one of its signature songs, “Be Our Guest,” think of this show as a lovingly prepared, extravagant banquet served piping hot by an exuberant, impassioned cast.

   As the heroine, Belle - whose dreams of a better world are inspired by her passion for books - Rachel Smith is a thoroughly charming newcomer to the stage. Yet in both her acting and singing, she’s more than a diamond-in-the- rough. For all of her youthfulness, she’s a remarkably complete performer - a refined, multi-faceted jewel as it were - gracefully exhibiting all the subtle variations of light and darkness built into this classic tale of redemptive love. The emotive power in the gentle vibrato of her singing voice is a marvelous instrument in itself, effectively finessing her character’s innocence, feisty independence, and vulnerability.

   Early in the story, Belle’s father, Maurice, an affectionate and sweetly peculiar man played by Ralph Cooley, gets lost in the woods and imprisoned in the castle of the erstwhile Prince who was at the time cursed to be a Beast forever unless he can learn to love and be lovable. Belle offers herself in exchange for her father’s release. Her disarming, authentic tenderness and love will eventually transform her jailer’s hardened heart. 

   As the Beast, Sean Fleming is certainly a fearsome physical entity, but he’s also a soaring spiritual and emotional presence, embodying real pathos. Smitten and empowered by Belle’s unrestrained selflessness, he’s fascinating to watch as he slowly sheds his toxic bitterness to reclaim his humanity.   

   Mason Stewart gives us a muscular portrayal of the dashing and dastardly Gaston. Authoritative and comical, Gaston is nevertheless a self-absorbed, feckless, and cruel trophy hunter, obsessed with marrying Belle who in turn fiercely resists his advances. Undeterred, he struts about town with  exaggerated machismo, much to the delight of three ‘silly girls’ – played with ditzy abandon by Kaylah Lehman, Aaliyah Kinnard, and Alexis Wilson - who vie for his affections while swooning over his every word. Anthony Woods-Mitchell is similarly giddy in his role of the fawning Lefou, Gaston’s unreasonably loyal punching bag. 

   Meanwhile in the castle, even the domestic staff has been infected by the Beast’s plight. They’re progressively turning into inanimate objects. With their visceral French accents and incessant flirting, Justin Woody as the lascivious candlestick, Lumiere, and Desiree Hargrave as the frenetic feather duster, Babette, are hilarious. Jacob Sustersic is delightfully engaging as a clock named Cogsworth, the jittery sentinel trying to maintain order and proper castle etiquette amidst titillating operatic outbursts from Tehilah Caviness, who plays a fancy wardrobe. And Julie Connair, as Mrs. Potts the teapot, articulates a wholly soothing energy of motherly hope, comforting Chip, her teacup son, played by Noah Tisevich, equally endearing as he voices his desire to be a real boy again.

      Setting the well-appointed table for this aesthetic feast with inventive magical effects and visuals are scenic designer Joshua Erichsen with master carpenter Micah Harvey, lighting and sound designer Scott Sutton, and costumer Stephen Ostertag.  The cast performs Michael Lawrence Akers’ robust choreography with infectious panache, especially in one of the evening’s most raucous numbers, “Gaston,” featuring a wildly complex rhythmic flurry of clinking beer mugs. And the live orchestra directed by Steve Parsons brings exhilarating aural depth to the proceedings.

   I think one verse in “Be Our Guest” still resonates as best illustrating the inspired motivation behind this Players Guild production: “Life is so unnerving / For a servant who’s not serving / He’s not whole without a soul to wait upon…”  In navigating the often ambiguous boundaries between technically excellent entertainment, so abundantly evident here, and truly impactful art, this cast and crew have literally taken that lyrical sentiment to heart and effectively become the collective, compelling soul of a servant. 

   And so it is that in the end, I had the wondrously uncanny sensation of being embraced and otherwise artfully…loved.

   Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Players Guild Theatre Mainstage, Cultural Center for the Arts, 1001 Market Avenue N., Canton, Ohio / THROUGH OCTOBER 8 – Shows Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 2 p.m. / Tickets $29 adults, $26 seniors, $22 for 17 and younger / Order at www.playersguildtheatre.com or call 330.453.7617

   PLAYERS GUILD PHOTOS by Michael Lawrence Akers, from top: 1. Rachel Smith as Belle / 2. Ralph Cooley as Maurice, Rachel Smith / 3. Sean Fleming as the Beast, Rachel Smith / 4.  Jacob Sustersic (left) as Cogsworth, Justin Woody as Lumiere / 5. Julie Connair as Mrs. Potts

We've Been Served syndicated post

[yomismaclothing]

Womens kimonos And Dusters Cover Up | Yomisma Clothing

Yomisma's dusters for women are the current trendsetter. Grab yours now women's resortwear, justine signature duster with pockets, and more.

[dawnajaynes32]

We've Been Served

 We’ve Been Served

By Tom Wachunas

“…Ever just the same /Ever a surprise/Ever as before/

Ever just as sure…”  - lyrics from Beauty and the Beast

    With its current production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, directed by Jonathan Tisevich, the Players Guild Theatre offers yet another pièce de résistance of theatrical art. In keeping with the ebullient spirit of one of its signature songs, “Be Our Guest,” think of this show as a lovingly prepared, extravagant banquet served piping hot by an exuberant, impassioned cast.

   As the heroine, Belle - whose dreams of a better world are inspired by her passion for books - Rachel Smith is a thoroughly charming newcomer to the stage. Yet in both her acting and singing, she’s more than a diamond-in-the- rough. For all of her youthfulness, she’s a remarkably complete performer - a refined, multi-faceted jewel as it were - gracefully exhibiting all the subtle variations of light and darkness built into this classic tale of redemptive love. The emotive power in the gentle vibrato of her singing voice is a marvelous instrument in itself, effectively finessing her character’s innocence, feisty independence, and vulnerability.

   Early in the story, Belle’s father, Maurice, an affectionate and sweetly peculiar man played by Ralph Cooley, gets lost in the woods and imprisoned in the castle of the erstwhile Prince who was at the time cursed to be a Beast forever unless he can learn to love and be lovable. Belle offers herself in exchange for her father’s release. Her disarming, authentic tenderness and love will eventually transform her jailer’s hardened heart. 

   As the Beast, Sean Fleming is certainly a fearsome physical entity, but he’s also a soaring spiritual and emotional presence, embodying real pathos. Smitten and empowered by Belle’s unrestrained selflessness, he’s fascinating to watch as he slowly sheds his toxic bitterness to reclaim his humanity.   

   Mason Stewart gives us a muscular portrayal of the dashing and dastardly Gaston. Authoritative and comical, Gaston is nevertheless a self-absorbed, feckless, and cruel trophy hunter, obsessed with marrying Belle who in turn fiercely resists his advances. Undeterred, he struts about town with  exaggerated machismo, much to the delight of three ‘silly girls’ – played with ditzy abandon by Kaylah Lehman, Aaliyah Kinnard, and Alexis Wilson - who vie for his affections while swooning over his every word. Anthony Woods-Mitchell is similarly giddy in his role of the fawning Lefou, Gaston’s unreasonably loyal punching bag. 

   Meanwhile in the castle, even the domestic staff has been infected by the Beast’s plight. They’re progressively turning into inanimate objects. With their visceral French accents and incessant flirting, Justin Woody as the lascivious candlestick, Lumiere, and Desiree Hargrave as the frenetic feather duster, Babette, are hilarious. Jacob Sustersic is delightfully engaging as a clock named Cogsworth, the jittery sentinel trying to maintain order and proper castle etiquette amidst titillating operatic outbursts from Tehilah Caviness, who plays a fancy wardrobe. And Julie Connair, as Mrs. Potts the teapot, articulates a wholly soothing energy of motherly hope, comforting Chip, her teacup son, played by Noah Tisevich, equally endearing as he voices his desire to be a real boy again.

      Setting the well-appointed table for this aesthetic feast with inventive magical effects and visuals are scenic designer Joshua Erichsen with master carpenter Micah Harvey, lighting and sound designer Scott Sutton, and costumer Stephen Ostertag.  The cast performs Michael Lawrence Akers’ robust choreography with infectious panache, especially in one of the evening’s most raucous numbers, “Gaston,” featuring a wildly complex rhythmic flurry of clinking beer mugs. And the live orchestra directed by Steve Parsons brings exhilarating aural depth to the proceedings.

   I think one verse in “Be Our Guest” still resonates as best illustrating the inspired motivation behind this Players Guild production: “Life is so unnerving / For a servant who’s not serving / He’s not whole without a soul to wait upon…”  In navigating the often ambiguous boundaries between technically excellent entertainment, so abundantly evident here, and truly impactful art, this cast and crew have literally taken that lyrical sentiment to heart and effectively become the collective, compelling soul of a servant. 

   And so it is that in the end, I had the wondrously uncanny sensation of being embraced and otherwise artfully…loved.

   Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Players Guild Theatre Mainstage, Cultural Center for the Arts, 1001 Market Avenue N., Canton, Ohio / THROUGH OCTOBER 8 – Shows Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 2 p.m. / Tickets $29 adults, $26 seniors, $22 for 17 and younger / Order at www.playersguildtheatre.com or call 330.453.7617

   PLAYERS GUILD PHOTOS by Michael Lawrence Akers, from top: 1. Rachel Smith as Belle / 2. Ralph Cooley as Maurice, Rachel Smith / 3. Sean Fleming as the Beast, Rachel Smith / 4.  Jacob Sustersic (left) as Cogsworth, Justin Woody as Lumiere / 5. Julie Connair as Mrs. Potts

We've Been Served syndicated post