10 hours ago


i wouldn’t be surprised if hannibal branded will

isnt this what the stab wound is supposed to be?

1 day ago

My Experience with Mads Mikkelsen


This story starts at the end, which occurred late Saturday night. It is a tapestry made up of essential players and moments, precision strategy and serendipitous fortune…within this story are true revelations of heady power and gut wrenching neurosis. But…it is a tapestry and every stitch of it plays its part in the making of the beautiful memory that will hang on the walls of my mind for the rest of my life.

The story ends by means of a beginning that led me to a gazebo made of thatched white wood, covered in green ivy. Many moments had been experienced by this time, being that the story starts on Friday afternoon, but it was not until the gazebo that all moments made sense – this is where the tapestry was strewn with gilded threads and hung upon a brass dowel…this was where – after the final and most meaningful threads were woven in, one could stand back and see the masterpiece that would need its own room in the palace of my mind.

We – Karen and I – had business to do. It was around 2 in the morning, and we saw the man by the gazebo – he was Josh, the brother of Katherine Isabel – the woman who played Margot Verger, in Hannibal. We had befriended him earlier on and our business with him was about tracing down a photo he’d taken of myself, Katherine and Karen, with Katherine – who we now know as Katie – holding a portrait that I’d done of her – one that apparently blew her mind, causing her to gasp and say, “Holy shitcakes.” She was blown – she loved it. We approached Josh. Behind him, his sister, Katie, sat on the bench in the gazebo, talking with Mads Mikkelsen.

Josh, enormously generous in spirit and friendliness, was no doubt playing protector to his lovely sister. It worked, as we were virtually all alone, save for a few people in the distance. Karen, who was very interested in continuing on with her previous conversation with Katie, asked Josh if he minded if she talked with her. Josh, immediately smiled, and if he didn’t somehow magically disappear – as genies tend to do – he vaporized out of the scene, leaving me standing in front of a very tipsy, extraordinarily warm and relaxed Mads.

Karen and Katy immediately got into their conversation, and Mads stood up – beer affects this man in a very, very good way. He stood close and hugged me tight – truly, there was no solicitation on my part, it was of his own doing and I loved it.

He was unburdened by the work of signatures and photo ops – he was merely this tall, skinny straw man, filled with love and kindness – open to touch, open to being touched – happy. While hugging me, we must have twirled though I don’t remember how I got inside the gazebo with him…he took a step back and the sunglasses that he kept atop his head caught in the vines. My natural reaction was to help – I readjusted his glasses, sliding them back into his very soft, lanky hair. Yes, there was gel, but it felt very conditioned and soft. He smiled and said that it was appropriate for us to wear vines and flowers in our hair, looking to me for acknowledgment – then he said, “We are children of the sixties, you and I…” implying that we are hippy children, and hippy kids wear flowers in their hair. He stared into my eyes.

It hadn’t hit me what he had just done – but I realized after that this was the connection I so desperately needed to make with him. In that moment – he was acknowledging my age, and not only mine, but his. He and I were the oldest people there… and I had been having a particularly hard time the day before, coming to terms with who I was, what I looked like, how I could never again be the prettiest girl in the room, or how I could never ever be a sexy young thing – I had separated myself from everyone in a few self pitying moments of doubt, and Mads – out of nowhere – swooped in and affirmed that I was not alone – he was my flower child brother, the both of us, grappling with the utter beauty of life, seeing how fleeting every second of it is, and how the great beauty of all is in the moment.

There were jokes, Karen and Katy were back in the conversation, we spoke of Bryan Fuller, he said, “I don’t want to shock anyone but – Bryan Fuller is gay!” He jumped back a step to emphasize with jester-like comic timing… I responded in mock disbelief, saying that I found that statement to be odd being that I’d slept with Bryan just the night before. Mads laughed…more jokes, more this and that, and as the moment came to it’s natural closure, Mads – once again, out of nowhere, slipped over to me, grabbed my arm, pulled me close and kissed me on my cheekbone, right beneath my right eye – his mouth was open and I felt the wetness of the inside of his lips.

It was just… beautiful. He gave me the connection. He connected to me, as a child of the 60s, which I am, also born only a few days after him, both Saggittarians – he made me feel like a beautiful woman, a peer, someone who had lived a long enough time to acquire certain mutual knowledge…he connected to me and sealed it with a kiss.

To read the rest of this story: http://hartleyworks.wordpress.com/2014/08/18/my-experience-of-meeting-mads-mikkelsen/

“We are children of the sixties, you and I…”


1 day ago
I watched Mikkelsen walk back and forth, patiently directed, cracking the occasional joke. He’s handsome and regal, I thought, even though, back in 2011, while friend and fellow actor Stellan Skarsgård was accepting the award for European Achievement in World Cinema on Mikkelsen’s behalf, he playfully remarked, “I don’t admire you for your looks, because you’re not good-looking. You have an ‘interesting face.’” But this interesting face sports the kind of physical aerodynamics made for currency, royalty, the pages of history books.

Andrew Stark-Flaunt (via whatkindofcrazy

i both agree and am violently defending that sex god face

(via haanigram)