Hello &

Hello &

Wentworth Earl Miller III

Wentworth Earl Miller III

V.I.P.

V.I.P.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Leonard Snart Returns!


Well, well, well!  Now this is good news and a blast from the past!  Leonard Snart aka Captain Cold is returning to Legends of Tomorrow in Season 3 and it’s about time! 





I’ve missed Wentworth and his character a lot.   I feel that Leonard Snart always adds that extra spice to the show, with his witty snarty remarks which I find so amusing not to mention his irresistible charm that  shall I say “gets under my skin”! 




Welcome back Leonard Snart I’ll be fastening my seat belt too just in case we’re in for a bumpy ride!  






http://ew.com/tv/2017/07/22/legends-tomorrow-comic-con-season-3-spoilers/



Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Happy Independence Day!



Wishing dear Went, his family, friends and his American fans a very Happy Independence Day!  


"Freedom is never dear at any price.
It is the breath of life.
What would a man not pay for living?"



May the force be with you! 

Sending you tons of love!











Wednesday, June 21, 2017

A Teen Choice!



The truth is my dreams are always so vivid and some say that dreams are psychological but I’ve found that mine are more like premonitions from spirit or a guidance. 

I’d like to share this dream I had two nights ago because I believe it was a premonition pertaining to this very exciting news I wish to share with you, but firstly let me tell you my dream.

In my dream I was walking along a pathway alone, well so I thought but to my surprise I felt a young presence walking beside me.  When I looked down it was a young boy and as he looked up at me I recognised him immediately.  It was Wentworth!  My heart jumped with joy as I looked down at him.  His pure beauty and innocence took my breath away completely.  Wentworth didn’t speak to me, he merely slipped his hand into mine, and at the moment I was surprised how small my hand was inside of his.  His hand was strong and firm for his years and I thought what a strong young boy he was, not in his structure but rather in his character.  We continued walking together holding hands, admiring the countryside together and although we did not speak to each other we knew precisely what the other was thinking … a kind of telepathy (this always happens in my dreams).  When we reached the end of the path I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because I knew that I would have to say goodbye to Wentworth.  He turned to look at me and I could see a shadow of sadness cast over his eyes as he proceeded to walk away.  My heart was aching, my eyes filled with tears as I saw him  walk away and then suddenly he turned around and ran back to me and he threw his arms around my neck and gave me a hard goodbye kiss.  Of course I held him tight not wanting to let him go but he stepped back and smiled at me reassuring me that he was going to be alright.  As he walked away he walked with confidence he turned smiled with a twinkle in his eye, and in that moment I thought what a brave and courageous youth he was.  I was filled with so much pride and joy for young Wentworth.  I knew in that instance that I needn’t worry anymore, because Wentworth was going onto greater things and that he was going to achieve all of his dreams.

The night following my dream I read that dear Wentworth was nominated for the 2017 Teen Choice Awards and oh how proud I am of him!


If you’d like to vote for Wentworth and you live in the US, please follow the link below and cast your vote for him.  Thank you so very much.


Once again my darling Went, how thrilled, proud and excited I am for you honey!  You deserve to be nominated and you deserve to win!  I wish you all the very best.

Thank you for coming to me in my dreams.   
                                              
Tons of love always … for you!

♥♥







Sunday, June 11, 2017

A French Connection!



It’s a week later and I’m still reeling from the connection Wentworth Miller, Dominic Purcell and Caity Lotz had with their fans at the Super Heroes Convention in Paris on the 3rd and 4th June 2017. 

Credit and much thanks to Ally Butt for her Panel transcript at the Convention.

Panel Transcript: Went/Dom.

Superheroes Con III

Transcribed, to the best of my ability, from my audio recording.

Q: How was it to jump back into Michael and Lincoln?

D: For me, it was quite easy, really. I played Lincoln for four years, obviously. It’s like fitting into an old pair of boots. It wasn’t difficult. Certainly, working with Wentworth makes that process a lot easier. I think it’s pretty well known now that Wentworth and I are very, very good friends, and we have a unique chemistry on-screen and it’s just a pleasure working with him.

W: Yeah, it was a treat. It was a treat to be reunited with Dominic and the rest of the cast, and, as an actor, to be able to go back and revisit a role, that was so meaningful to me, was a rare thing and a pleasure.

Q: I have three questions, I hope that’s okay.

W: All of them for Dominic.

Q (cont.): For Legends of Tomorrow, how much were you involved in the building of your characters?

D: Whenever you do anything, it’s a collaborative effort—directors and writers, and stuff. As an actor, I come up with my own choices. I bring my own stuff to Mick Rory. A lot of the stuff that’s given to me in the form of a script and lines, I throw all that shit away. I just say what I want to say and I think it works. A lot of the one-liners that Mick comes up with are my invention.

Q: Since you are the executive producers of Prison Break, were you involved in the casting of Mark Feuerstein? It was brilliant.

W: I’m glad you thought so. Dominic and I were not part of the casting process, as far as I’m aware, at least. That was a happy accident, that we got Mark; he’s super talented. I happened to go to school with him, actually. He was a couple years ahead of me in college, and I remember sitting in the audience, watching him do Hamlet or Macbeth, and being so impressed. So it was really cool and odd, and strange, and awesome to be reunited with him on set, playing off of each other some 20 odd years later.

Q: (I couldn’t really understand her accent.) How is it to play the bad guy on Legends of Tomorrow, when in Prison Break, you’re such a sweetheart?

W: Thank you for that question. I respectfully disagree with your take on both characters. I consider Leonard Snart, on Legends, to be a bad guy who’s capable of goodness, and I consider Michael Scofield to be a good guy who’s capable of badness. It’s a lot of fun, as an actor, to play in what I’ll call the greyscale—it’s neither black nor white. I think that’s how people are in real life and it’s a good time, as an actor, to dig into that on camera.

Q: How do you think about the possibility of Prison Break season 6?

D: There is a possibility, of course. Fox is very open to the possibility, but I think– I think in order for season six to occur, there needs to be a complete revamp of the show. Personally, what I would like to see would be more emphasis on the brothers and their journey.

Q: I wanted to know if you have any role models.

W: Was that for both of us, or just me? […] Both of us. I have many role models. Some people are models of what I want and want to be, and some people are models of what I don’t want and don’t want to be. It’s helpful to see that, too. Dominic is a model for me [inaudible]. I’m very serious when I say that. He’s a blend of toughness and vulnerability. I think he’s an excellent example of what a modern man can look like—one of the things a modern man can look like—and I’ve learned a lot from our relationship. I’m grateful to have him as a model in my life.

D: Again, role models are—I haven’t really thought about that. A role model, for me, is someone that takes responsibility, someone that owns up to a lot of things: to accountability and showing, rather than words, actions. I think that’s very important. Words are spouted very easily these days and actions is a big thing for me. I’d also like to extend—Wentworth’s a role model for me as well. I’m in awe of [his] courage, his want to educate about mental health. Working with [him] over the years, and watching him grow as a man, I’ve never really seen someone quite as fearless as Wentworth. I’m sure that’s a journey that he’s arrived at, but I sit back sometimes and say, ‘That man really knows how to look after himself.’ I’ve picked up a lot of that myself; I’ve learned a lot.

Q: What part of acting is, for you, difficult?

D: When you’re doing a shitty movie and you don’t want to do it.

W: The days can be really long—sometimes twelve hours, sometimes fourteen and a half—and you’ve got a lot of people, sometimes a hundred or more, working very hard to [put] each scene together. It can be difficult for me to stay patient, to wait for everyone else to do their jobs, so that I get to do mine.

Q: Do you know how John Doe was supposed to end?

D: Thank you for bringing up John Doe. It was one of my first jobs in America and it was a wonderful experience. It was certainly one of the hardest roles I’ve ever done. As to John’s identity, it was never really—it was vaguely mentioned by the writers. The show got cancelled at the end of the year, so we didn’t exactly find out who he was. They writers, they, in the past, have said that he was…. this is gonna sound silly. He was the Messiah returned; he was the son of God and that’s why he knew everything. That’s why he was such a good guy.

Q: How are you, both of you? Are you enjoying your stay here?

W: Ca va bien.

D: I’ve really enjoyed staying. I have family in Dublin and I spent two weeks out in the country, away from people. It was a very, very peaceful time. I’m good. I love Paris, too. I went to the French Open yesterday and I had a great time. They treated me very kindly. Paris is a beautiful city.

Q: Would you like to continue your acting career, or go back to writing? If you would like to continue acting, what kind of character would you like to take on?

W: Thank you for that question. I think a little bit of both. I love writing. I love acting. It would be nice to write while I was acting and act while I was writing. I think it’s important to have multiple pots on the stove if you’re an artist, if you’re an actor, if you’re a creative type. I’d like to change it up, I think—either play an out-and-out villain, maybe in a horror movie, or some kind of comedy, I think, would be a good time.

Q: Would you rather fight a horse-sized duck, or a hundred duck-sized horses?

W: I’m glad you said ‘duck’ because I heard something different the first time.

D: If it quacks like a duck and shits like a duck, it’s a duck. That’s my answer.

W: I vote neither. Thank you for your question.

Q: Top 3 favourite things.

D: For me, it’s being around my kids, surfing on the beach, and spending a lot of time by myself.

W: Great answers. I vote park bench, cool breeze, and a cold beer.


D: Yeah, I like beer as well.


It appeared that everyone had lots of fun, what with the horsing around, the ducking and diving a certain question that was posed to them not to mention the down to earth replies when the S***t hit the fan with thought and jest and what the F**K seemed to be the proverbial thought at that moment! 

I got the feeling that at this point Went and Dom felt like they were at the funny farm and just went with the flow which became a highlight of the whole Q and A thing much to everyone’s amusement.   The correct answer Dom would have been “If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck.” but your answer was absolutely priceless.  Went of course appeared to find all of this absolutely hilarious, so much so that when I look at the snapshots of him having a hearty laugh (at that precise moment ) he really tickles my funny bone every time and I like it. 

From what I got to see there was a lot of connecting going on that’s for sure.  Signing of Autographs, exchanging conversations, the Q & A’s, the touching, the hugging, the squeezing, the swooning, the posing and the exchanging of niceties and gifts!  I bet this is one connection that will remain with dear Went and Dom for a very long time to come. 




Thank you to Went, Dom, Caity and all the other guys and dolls connected to this awesome convention for everything!  You were/are absolutely wonderful. 

A huge big thanks to all of the fans for your fantastic support and for sharing your amazing experiences on social media, with all those who couldn’t be there physically.  It’s greatly appreciated.

With all this having been said and done I’m going to miss you darling Went.  You’re the highlight of my every day and I hope I get to see more of you!  Call me greedy, sweetie but I can’t help myself.  I honestly love you!



Here’s another connection I’d love to have with you dear Went … if only I could …








Monday, June 5, 2017

#survivalmode


I love You!
♥♥


WENTWORTH MILLER·MONDAY, JUNE 5, 2017

I was struck by a blog post. Or maybe it was an editorial piece. It read like a letter. And a public apology. Of sorts. Written to someone (everyone?) the author had met when/while they were unwell.
"I wasn't myself back then," was the gist. "Back then I was depressed. But now I'm better. And I'd like a second chance to make a first impression."

That was the general idea. And it struck me.

I respected the writer. I respected their truth.

And (it's a "both/and" not an "either/or") it wasn't my truth.

The mental health community (by which I mean those of us who struggle with mental health issues/illnesses) is a diverse one. Ask a 100 people who suffer from depression what it means to be depressed, and you'll get a 100 different answers. All of them true.

It's important to respect that (IMO).

The writer's truth wasn't my truth but that didn't make it untrue. If that makes sense.

Side Note: This is why I don't claim to be a "voice for the voiceless." I may stand closer to the megaphone than some, but when I speak, I speak for myself. About myself. If what I say resonates with the next person, reflects some part of their story, great. But sooner or later I'm going to say something that's true for me and me alone. And I reserve that right. My survival - rooted in self-expression, in sharing my truth, in my own time and way - depends on it. So when it comes to mental health, I make it clear: I don't speak for other people. And they don't speak for me. Because that would be impossible. Unless they happen to be a 45-year-old gay man of mixed race born in the UK, raised in Brooklyn, and their name is "Wentworth Miller."

(Then yes, they speak for me.)

Back to the blog post. The one that struck me.

"I wasn't myself back then," was the gist. "Back then I was depressed. But now I'm better. And I'd like a second chance to make a first impression."

Like I said, this read like an apology. Of sorts. Which I got/get. Totally.

Over the years (decades) I suffered from depression, I did and said things I later felt the need to apologize for. Sometimes I did it in person, sometimes via phone call or email. Sometimes my apologies were accepted. Regardless, it was important that I say the words. "I'm sorry." That I take ownership of what I did and said during those years when I was struggling.

Two things I did not and will not apologize for:

1. Being depressed.

2. Being the person I was when I was depressed.

I don't/won't apologize for being depressed because I couldn't/can't help it. Like the color of my eyes, it was/is beyond my control.

I don't/won't apologize for being the person I was when I was depressed because while yes, that person (me) did and said things I later felt the need to apologize for, that person (me) also saved my f-cking life.

True story.

That person (me) - angry, grieving, bored, numb, rude, restless, hopeless, sleepless, shiftless, sluggish, selfish, unkind, awkward, reclusive, explosive, compulsive, erratic, unreliable and frequently unpredictable - is the reason I'm still here today.

I'm no longer in the business of shaming myself. These days, I recognize that self-love and self-worth look like embracing all of me. My entirety. My full spectrum. Up to and including who I was in My Darkest Days when I was Not My Best Self. When I was Just Getting By and Putting One Foot In Front Of The Other.

When my phone's running out of juice and switches to "Low Battery Mode," I don't get pissed at my phone. I'm grateful. It's doing what it needs to do to squeeze out those extra minutes.

I'm grateful to the me I was when I was depressed. The me in "Low Battery Mode." To him I say, "Thank you for squeezing out those extra minutes (years). Would I choose to be you again? F-ck no. That doesn't mean you aren't worth honoring. You did what you needed to do, dude. You were in survival mode. And you made a f-cking mess. And today I'm around to smell the roses. That's thanks to you."

The me I was when I was depressed doesn't deserve to be disowned now that I'm "better." That would be a) ungrateful b) disrespectful and c) potentially deadly. Because I may need him again someday.
Once upon a time, the disconnect between who I pretended to be ("okay") and who I really was ("not okay") caused me pain. As far as I was concerned, the me who was "not okay" was "not me." Not the preferred me. Not the likable/lovable/hirable/respectable/acceptable me. The me that was "not okay" was the "bad" me. The "wrong" me. Not the "real" me. To be denied and kept quiet in darkened rooms, a disappointment hidden behind lies and lowered curtains until he went away and the "real" me came back.

Now that I'm "okay," now that I'm the "real" me again, I'm aware of pressure - some internal, some external - to pretend the me who was "not okay" never existed.

Problem is:

1. That's not true.

2. It's a set-up for upset: "Now that I'm 'okay' I can never be 'not okay' again." Now that I've made a new impression - better than the first (phew) - I need to make sure I don't ruin it. (Or else.) Which means one day, if/when I find I'm "not okay," if/when my depression returns and the "bad" me or the "wrong" me shows his (ugly) face, I may feel compelled to deny it, to keep him quiet in darkened rooms until he goes away again. Like before.

And the cycle continues.

The following is Robert Bly speaking to our evolutionary process, our long road from the cave to the city. It works for my long road to recovery as well:

"There's a part of us which is dark, reptilian, and primitive... [which isn't] considered necessary for civilized life... We [want] to get away from that dark, moist, wet, reptilian thing... [But that's the part] that kept us evolving, don't you understand? For millions of years. That's connected with your survival. That snake thing in there... [A reptile] survives! It survives! It survives! [That's the thing] that kept us moving and without [it] we would never have gotten where we were. We'd have died. So now we've arrived to this point and we don't want him anymore. And he's thrown out..." ("What Stories Do We Need" Part 2)

I see him. My "primitive." My reptile. My crocodile. And I see his value. The part of me that's single-minded. Stubborn as f-ck. Me in "Low Battery Mode." The me that kept me moving, sometimes on my belly, crawling through those long, grueling years until I made it out of the swamp. I won't cast him aside now. My croc. Because life is challenging (still). Threatening and destabilizing (still). And he has A Very Particular Set Of Skills (obviously).

I once posted an essay on this page referencing koalas, all warm and cute and fuzzy. They've since become a synonym for "hugs." That brings me joy. #koalas

It's also how some people choose to perceive me. The part they like to focus on. My koala. To the exclusion of all else. "You're so sweet." Mm-hm. How many times have I heard that?

(Many. Many times.)

Well, it's true. I am sweet.

It's also not the whole truth. Thank goodness. Because if I were 100% koala (all warm and cute and fuzzy) I'd be dead by now.

True story.

If I'm alive today it's thanks to my croc. Tough and resilient. Like leather. When "civilized" me longed to Crawl Under A Rock And Die he was like, "Nopes." And "When's lunch?" It's important to respect that (IMO). To make sure he has a place at my table. Even if he chews with his mouth open and breaks the good china.

For me, these days, it's less, "I'd like a second chance to make a first impression," and more, "Your first impression was not incorrect. Back then I was myself. Yes - that was me. Me in survival mode. And I own that. I'm a 'both/and' not an 'either/or.' Cool?"

The answer may be "No."

Some people want All Koala All The Time. They insist on it. They're uncomfortable with me refusing to compartmentalize/criminalize my croc, alarmed by me reframing a negative as a positive, unable/unwilling to allow for the possibility that the "wrong" me (angry, grieving, bored) is as deserving of sunshine and airtime as the "right" me (likeable/loveable/hirable). They say, "You look sad," using sympathy to mask their dis-ease. Then attempt to mask me. "I wish I could put a smile on your face." Patting my arm they police me, signaling that there's an "acceptable" me and an "unacceptable" me. And limited space for the latter. "Why don't you take a break?" they whisper. 

"Come back when you've pulled yourself together?"

To them I say, "Adios."

If it's a choice between me loving all of me and others loving certain, highly selective parts of me, there is no choice.

I know where/what my work is, and it looks like recognizing that the me I was "back then," who previously I've felt the need to apologize for, make excuses for, the me I've considered broken/damaged/shameful/embarrassing, whose existence I consciously and consistently omitted from resumes, family gatherings and first dates, was and is central and essential to my continued existence on this earth.

"[A reptile] survives! It survives! It survives!"

Yes. Oh yes.

"[That's the part] that kept us evolving..."

Give credit where credit is due.

"[That's the thing] that kept us moving..."

Where would I be without him?

"We'd have died."

Damn right.

That's worth claiming. Celebrating. My croc deserves some love.

Don't get me wrong - I love me some koala. He, too, is worth honoring.

But on those dark, cruel nights when he tumbles from the trees and hits the ground hard, when he wants nothing more than to throw in the towel, wave the white flag and go (fuzzy) belly up, it's my croc who rises from the river and fixes death with unblinking eyes.

And death steps the f-ck back.








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