Monday, May 23, 2011
"Stormy Weather at Night Gives Me Such a Fright"
Okay, so Lena Horne singing "Stormy Weather" in the early 1940's film of the same name does not give me quite a fright, but stormy weather during the middle of the night does leave me on edge.
Ever since I was a child, I have been afraid of certain things: darkness, being able to peer into the night through my window (and vice versa), an open bedroom door, and vicious thunder storms that rage in the wee small hours of the morning.
I do not fully understand these fears, but most of them seem to relate to feelings of insecurity or a sense of lacking control.
Even now, I leave the light above my stove on at night so that I am not in complete darkness -- it is just enough light to filter through my bedroom without keeping me awake.
When I lived with someone -- had a regular partner sleeping next to me at night -- most of my fears were abated. A partner lying next to me brought a sense of security and comfort. But now, living alone for the first time, well, ever, I am facing these fears again and wondering if I can ever overcome them.
Last night, around 1:00a.m., a storm rolled through. It did not last very long, but the first clap of thunder made me nervous. I was still awake at the time reading and listening to music; nevertheless, I felt uncomfortable and put off going to bed until after the storm had subsided (at least the thunder and lightning part).
Then, later in the night (or earlier in the morning), I was awakened from deep sleep by thunder. Stirred, I quickly came to my senses to hear the heavy rains pouring. I looked at my clock to see that it was already 5:40a.m. -- soon enough the morning light would begin to filter through my window. But it was still very dark, and the storm still raged on. I turned on some music, switched on my bedside light, and sat in my bed waiting for the storm to pass.
Rain at night does not bother me; in fact, rain at night can be quite soothing. Storms in the daytime hours do not bother me; in fact, storms in the afternoon can be somewhat soothing. But at night, a storm intimidates me. It threatens with its thunderous ability to surprise and startle. It illuminates with flashes of lightning that cast eerie shadows on my walls.
And a storm leaves me missing the comforting arms of another to share my bed.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
"Just About Fainted"
Dark Shadows finally in production!!!!
Sorry, I geeked out, almost fainted, actually had tears of joy welling in my eyes when I read this press release.
Dark Shadows, if you did not know, was a daytime series that aired on ABC from 1966-71. Influenced by great works of gothic romance, horror, and science fiction, the series was incredibly popular from 1967-early 1970, particularly among teenage and young adult audiences. It is, for the record, one of the few soap operas from that time period for which almost all episodes have survived (the lone missing episode exists in audio form matched with still images). It is also one of the few soap operas to ever enjoy a life in syndicated reruns. And, of course, there are the two motion pictures starring the series' cast: House of Dark Shadows (1970) and Night of Dark Shadows (1971).
Oh my, look at how much I'm geeking out on this right now! Sorry, let me give some background.
The show centers on the Collins family, a troubled and apparently more-than-cursed bloodline living in a great mansion (Collinwood) within a fishing village (Collinsport) in Maine. Initially, the story centered around the arrival of Victoria Winters, who bore a striking resemblance to family matriarch Elizabeth Stoddard, to serve as governess to 9-year-old David Collins. Victoria soon becomes enmeshed in a number of family mysteries and local intrigue. Ratings started going up when the series began incorporating elements of the supernatural (first, a ghost of a long-dead but often-remembered ancestor, Josette, then more ghosts, then a character who turned out to be a mythical phoenix), but for most of its first year, the series was struggling to find its audience.
Figuring he had little to lose, series creator Dan Curtis decided to introduce a character named Barnabas Collins -- he just happened to resemble the portrait of a Barnabas Collins who supposedly died over 175 years earlier, and he just happened to be a vampire released from his chained coffin by Willie Loomis (just your average drunken fuck up, really). Barnabas eventually shifted from villain to reluctant vampire, and the series explored in great detail his wish to become mortal once again. In part, this hope was fueled by the medical experiments of Dr. Julia Hoffman, who discovered a particularly destructive cell in the blood of Barnabas' victims, isolated the cell, and successfully neutralized it. Famously, Barnabas became enamored with multiple women who he was convinced could replace his long-lost love, Josette (including Victoria Winters).
During its run, the show sampled from such works as Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Turn of the Screw, Dracula, Frankenstein, "The Premature Burial," "The Tell-tale Heart," The Picture of Dorian Gray, and even some of the then-obscure works of H. P. Lovecraft. It would include witches (Angelique, specifically, who was spurned by Barnabas in the 1790's and subsequently cursed him with vampirism), werewolves (including Quentin, played by David Selby, later of Falcon Crest fame), "flashback" story lines that would delve into the Collins family's convoluted and cursed history, and a number of "live to tape," caught-on-camera flubs, bloopers, and mishaps.
It is an incredibly complicated story, but its campyness -- much appreciated by the show's fans -- can make the series an acquired taste.
In 1991, NBC launched a revival of the series (again created and overseen by Dan Curtis), featuring Barbara Steele as Dr. Julia Hoffman, Ben Cross as Barnabas Collins, and Jean Simmons as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. The series began with high ratings, but press coverage of the sudden development of Desert Storm quickly eroded the show's audience. It produced 13 hours. Another attempt was made for the WB in 2004, but only a pilot was produced. The 1991 revival series is quite lavish by comparison to the earlier series and its two motion pictures. The revival is also available on Netflix and, for anyone interested in Dark Shadows, I always suggest the revival as a good "entry way" to the older series.
All this to say that, reading the above press release, I was overcome with joy at the few production and plot details made available. I have been afraid that a remake of Dark Shadows would give it the True Blood treatment, or the Twilight treatment, or the Vampire Diaries treatment -- not that these franchises do not have their audiences or their merits, but they are, simply put, not Dark Shadows (and vice versa).
The casting choices -- Depp as Barnabas, Michelle Pfeiffer as Elizabeth Stoddard (omigosh love it), Helena Bonham Carter as Julia Hoffman (holy crap love it), as well as the remaining cast all seem spot-on (of course, the unknown names seem spot-on given their images that I could find via Google). I am also excited to see that Angelique will actually appear in the film -- although, as both series have shown, there's enough 18th century plotline to make a sequel film (maybe that will be an option). Setting the story in 1972 gets past the whole, "How does Barnabas fit into today's globalized world?" conundrum (which was not a problem even in 1991, but would be a big issue in the 2000's), and it also gives a nice nod to the 1960's/1970's garishness of the original series. Plus, the people tied to the visuals of the film (Burton's associates from Sleepy Hollow and Alice in Wonderland) seem perfect for providing Dark Shadows with just enough of that foggy, dark, shadow, gothic goodness.
I am uber-excited, and I cannot wait for the film's first trailers and, of course, its May 2012 release!
*Squeal*
Sorry, I geeked out, almost fainted, actually had tears of joy welling in my eyes when I read this press release.
Dark Shadows, if you did not know, was a daytime series that aired on ABC from 1966-71. Influenced by great works of gothic romance, horror, and science fiction, the series was incredibly popular from 1967-early 1970, particularly among teenage and young adult audiences. It is, for the record, one of the few soap operas from that time period for which almost all episodes have survived (the lone missing episode exists in audio form matched with still images). It is also one of the few soap operas to ever enjoy a life in syndicated reruns. And, of course, there are the two motion pictures starring the series' cast: House of Dark Shadows (1970) and Night of Dark Shadows (1971).
Oh my, look at how much I'm geeking out on this right now! Sorry, let me give some background.
The show centers on the Collins family, a troubled and apparently more-than-cursed bloodline living in a great mansion (Collinwood) within a fishing village (Collinsport) in Maine. Initially, the story centered around the arrival of Victoria Winters, who bore a striking resemblance to family matriarch Elizabeth Stoddard, to serve as governess to 9-year-old David Collins. Victoria soon becomes enmeshed in a number of family mysteries and local intrigue. Ratings started going up when the series began incorporating elements of the supernatural (first, a ghost of a long-dead but often-remembered ancestor, Josette, then more ghosts, then a character who turned out to be a mythical phoenix), but for most of its first year, the series was struggling to find its audience.
Figuring he had little to lose, series creator Dan Curtis decided to introduce a character named Barnabas Collins -- he just happened to resemble the portrait of a Barnabas Collins who supposedly died over 175 years earlier, and he just happened to be a vampire released from his chained coffin by Willie Loomis (just your average drunken fuck up, really). Barnabas eventually shifted from villain to reluctant vampire, and the series explored in great detail his wish to become mortal once again. In part, this hope was fueled by the medical experiments of Dr. Julia Hoffman, who discovered a particularly destructive cell in the blood of Barnabas' victims, isolated the cell, and successfully neutralized it. Famously, Barnabas became enamored with multiple women who he was convinced could replace his long-lost love, Josette (including Victoria Winters).
During its run, the show sampled from such works as Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Turn of the Screw, Dracula, Frankenstein, "The Premature Burial," "The Tell-tale Heart," The Picture of Dorian Gray, and even some of the then-obscure works of H. P. Lovecraft. It would include witches (Angelique, specifically, who was spurned by Barnabas in the 1790's and subsequently cursed him with vampirism), werewolves (including Quentin, played by David Selby, later of Falcon Crest fame), "flashback" story lines that would delve into the Collins family's convoluted and cursed history, and a number of "live to tape," caught-on-camera flubs, bloopers, and mishaps.
It is an incredibly complicated story, but its campyness -- much appreciated by the show's fans -- can make the series an acquired taste.
In 1991, NBC launched a revival of the series (again created and overseen by Dan Curtis), featuring Barbara Steele as Dr. Julia Hoffman, Ben Cross as Barnabas Collins, and Jean Simmons as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. The series began with high ratings, but press coverage of the sudden development of Desert Storm quickly eroded the show's audience. It produced 13 hours. Another attempt was made for the WB in 2004, but only a pilot was produced. The 1991 revival series is quite lavish by comparison to the earlier series and its two motion pictures. The revival is also available on Netflix and, for anyone interested in Dark Shadows, I always suggest the revival as a good "entry way" to the older series.
All this to say that, reading the above press release, I was overcome with joy at the few production and plot details made available. I have been afraid that a remake of Dark Shadows would give it the True Blood treatment, or the Twilight treatment, or the Vampire Diaries treatment -- not that these franchises do not have their audiences or their merits, but they are, simply put, not Dark Shadows (and vice versa).
The casting choices -- Depp as Barnabas, Michelle Pfeiffer as Elizabeth Stoddard (omigosh love it), Helena Bonham Carter as Julia Hoffman (holy crap love it), as well as the remaining cast all seem spot-on (of course, the unknown names seem spot-on given their images that I could find via Google). I am also excited to see that Angelique will actually appear in the film -- although, as both series have shown, there's enough 18th century plotline to make a sequel film (maybe that will be an option). Setting the story in 1972 gets past the whole, "How does Barnabas fit into today's globalized world?" conundrum (which was not a problem even in 1991, but would be a big issue in the 2000's), and it also gives a nice nod to the 1960's/1970's garishness of the original series. Plus, the people tied to the visuals of the film (Burton's associates from Sleepy Hollow and Alice in Wonderland) seem perfect for providing Dark Shadows with just enough of that foggy, dark, shadow, gothic goodness.
I am uber-excited, and I cannot wait for the film's first trailers and, of course, its May 2012 release!
*Squeal*
Monday, May 16, 2011
"Trouble Again"
I have an infatuation with Linda Ronstadt. I will elaborate on my Ronstadt adoration in later posts (trust me, you will hate me for that), but needless to say my Ronstadt fascination has led me to appreciate a host of other artists with whom she has been associated.
Particularly Emmylou Harris, who is my absolute, hands-down, favorite artist.
But more recently, singer-songwriter Karla Bonoff. Ronstadt covered a few of Bonoff's songs on her 1976 album, Hasten Down the Wind, and her 1989 album, Cry Like a Rainstorm, Howl Like the Wind.
For the purposes of side-by-side comparison, I offer up Bonoff's version of "Trouble Again" (from 1979's Restless Nights) and Ronstadt's version (from Cry Like a Rainstorm...):
Of course, I have a reason for posting the songs -- the least of which is my appreciation for both versions. Actually, since resuming dating, I find that this song is rather appropriate for how I feel lately. No, I'm not having any dating emotional drama -- but it does seem that, at least with regard to a certain individual or two, I often find myself "in trouble again."
And I used to be such a good girl.
Particularly Emmylou Harris, who is my absolute, hands-down, favorite artist.
But more recently, singer-songwriter Karla Bonoff. Ronstadt covered a few of Bonoff's songs on her 1976 album, Hasten Down the Wind, and her 1989 album, Cry Like a Rainstorm, Howl Like the Wind.
For the purposes of side-by-side comparison, I offer up Bonoff's version of "Trouble Again" (from 1979's Restless Nights) and Ronstadt's version (from Cry Like a Rainstorm...):
Of course, I have a reason for posting the songs -- the least of which is my appreciation for both versions. Actually, since resuming dating, I find that this song is rather appropriate for how I feel lately. No, I'm not having any dating emotional drama -- but it does seem that, at least with regard to a certain individual or two, I often find myself "in trouble again."
And I used to be such a good girl.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
"Glamor and Glitter, Fashion and Fame!"
Not just outrageous.
Not just truly outrageous.
But truly, truly outrageous.
Not just truly outrageous.
But truly, truly outrageous.
"All Hail the Queen"
I hope to be proven wrong, but I believe there is a lack of appreciation for camp.
No, not summer camp. No, not Jesus camp. I'm talking about Bette Davis serving up roast rat to a wheelchair-bound Joan Crawford; Aunt Clara falling out of a fireplace and dropping her fine collection of door knobs all over Samantha's living room floor; Paul Lynde in the Center Square; Suzanne Sugarbaker loving each and every one of her crowns, spitting venom at the thought of Miss Valdosta Feed and Grain or Helen Van Patterson Patton, and waxing poetic about her time as Queen of the Azalea Festival; Carol Burnett and Vicki Lawrence in the "Eunice" sketches; "Went with the Wind" and seeing a gorgeous dress in the window that you just can't resist; and the list goes on (that's the beauty of camp).
Maybe there is an appreciation for camp, but there's also push back, and it seems to be among younger generations of gay men (the ones who, on dating websites, must over-emphasize their masculinity).
With all that said, allow me to introduce myself. I am Queen Deanna of Arts, formerly the Duchess Deanna (though my Twitter feed still says the latter). After years of only being a minor form of aristocracy -- a welcomed but sidelined member of the royal court -- I have ascended to my rightful place as a queen.
It was inevitable, really. I always wore a crown too big for my title, and it made the other queens jealous.
Plus, it seemed fitting, upon earning my master's degree, to play with the degree's title. Why be a Master of Arts when one can be a Queen of Arts? And why hold a Doctorate of Philosophy when one can simply become an Empress? In fact, why hold to any of those academic titles? Why not play it up campy gay style and rework the chronology as follows:
Of course, I encounter, regularly, people who do not "get it." I say that I am a Queen of Arts, and I get responses like, "Well, that's not a title that the Academy recognizes."
No shit, Sherlock.
And ... screw that. The Academy also does not recognize a number of forms of knowledge as knowledge. And some it did not recognize but, now, does recognize (or acknowledges, or perhaps ghettoizes so it can observe better) -- e.g., gay and lesbian studies, gender and women's studies, diasporic cultures, African American studies, etc.
Oops, I am on a tangent.
Back to being a Queen of Arts -- I know I am not "really" a queen. But once, long ago, in a land ... eight hours away from where I currently live, a former coworker once told me, upon hearing that I call myself a duchess, to never settle for anything less than being the queen. That nobody else will treat me as a queen, so I should always treat myself as the queen that I am (or want to be). It was a self-esteem booster, truly. And important advice that, occasionally, I pass on to other individuals in need of a royal makeover.
There's no point to constantly putting yourself down -- self-deprecation is overrated and counterproductive to achieving one's life goals. Value yourself, embrace who you are, and appreciate all that you have to offer! Be. A. Queen.
Plus, it's kinda campy, but I shouldn't talk too much about that. No sense revealing all the artifice behind the queenly display that I have erected.
No, not summer camp. No, not Jesus camp. I'm talking about Bette Davis serving up roast rat to a wheelchair-bound Joan Crawford; Aunt Clara falling out of a fireplace and dropping her fine collection of door knobs all over Samantha's living room floor; Paul Lynde in the Center Square; Suzanne Sugarbaker loving each and every one of her crowns, spitting venom at the thought of Miss Valdosta Feed and Grain or Helen Van Patterson Patton, and waxing poetic about her time as Queen of the Azalea Festival; Carol Burnett and Vicki Lawrence in the "Eunice" sketches; "Went with the Wind" and seeing a gorgeous dress in the window that you just can't resist; and the list goes on (that's the beauty of camp).
Maybe there is an appreciation for camp, but there's also push back, and it seems to be among younger generations of gay men (the ones who, on dating websites, must over-emphasize their masculinity).
With all that said, allow me to introduce myself. I am Queen Deanna of Arts, formerly the Duchess Deanna (though my Twitter feed still says the latter). After years of only being a minor form of aristocracy -- a welcomed but sidelined member of the royal court -- I have ascended to my rightful place as a queen.
It was inevitable, really. I always wore a crown too big for my title, and it made the other queens jealous.
Plus, it seemed fitting, upon earning my master's degree, to play with the degree's title. Why be a Master of Arts when one can be a Queen of Arts? And why hold a Doctorate of Philosophy when one can simply become an Empress? In fact, why hold to any of those academic titles? Why not play it up campy gay style and rework the chronology as follows:
- Undergraduate Degree = Duchess (we're princesses long before college anyway)
- Master's Degree = Queen
- ABD (All but dissertation) = All but divine
- Doctorate of Philosophy (PhD) = Empress
- Earning tenure = Priestess
- Becoming a full professor = High Priestess
- Retirement/Professor Emeritus = Oracle
Of course, I encounter, regularly, people who do not "get it." I say that I am a Queen of Arts, and I get responses like, "Well, that's not a title that the Academy recognizes."
No shit, Sherlock.
And ... screw that. The Academy also does not recognize a number of forms of knowledge as knowledge. And some it did not recognize but, now, does recognize (or acknowledges, or perhaps ghettoizes so it can observe better) -- e.g., gay and lesbian studies, gender and women's studies, diasporic cultures, African American studies, etc.
Oops, I am on a tangent.
Back to being a Queen of Arts -- I know I am not "really" a queen. But once, long ago, in a land ... eight hours away from where I currently live, a former coworker once told me, upon hearing that I call myself a duchess, to never settle for anything less than being the queen. That nobody else will treat me as a queen, so I should always treat myself as the queen that I am (or want to be). It was a self-esteem booster, truly. And important advice that, occasionally, I pass on to other individuals in need of a royal makeover.
There's no point to constantly putting yourself down -- self-deprecation is overrated and counterproductive to achieving one's life goals. Value yourself, embrace who you are, and appreciate all that you have to offer! Be. A. Queen.
Plus, it's kinda campy, but I shouldn't talk too much about that. No sense revealing all the artifice behind the queenly display that I have erected.
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