Holiday greetings to you all! I am thrilled to return, once again, for an updated version of our annual gift giving guide. If you have a Damian Lewis fan in your life, this post is for YOU!
I am a burlesque performer, who specializes in holiday-themed acts. Being known as the “Queen of Christmas”, I love merging my two worlds and bringing my love of the holiday season AND my love of all things Damian into one fun post. This year is a little different than most, because live entertainment just isn’t safe yet. I’m still staying busy and finding ways to live my best holiday life!
What helped me cross paths with the amazing founders of this fan page was fan fiction, particularly a Homeland fic I started up in 2013 titled Suddenly.
The story started as my love letter to all things Carrie f*cking Mathison, and my wanting to explore an alternate, less bleak and lonely future for my leading lady fave where her brilliant, badass self could still shine through.
“My job, my illness. They don’t mesh with my having a pet rock, let alone a foster child.”
We celebrate this wonderful holiday with family and friends — we indulge ourselves maybe a little bit too much with turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and give thanks, among other great things in our lives, for the one and only Damian Lewis and the characters he brings to life and into our lives 🙂 And then we travel back to six years ago, November 26, 2014 to be precise, to the day Damian Lewis received his OBE from Duke of Cambridge and made us all proud!
Whenever I’m compelled to watch or read or listen to something out of our place and time, something “foreign”, I’m sent back to ninth grade, to when I first learned to read. No doubt I’d been deciphering the alphabet strung into words and sentences long before I turned 14, but ninth grade is the time, I think, when we really learn to read, if given the chance. To look at meaning between the lines, find the metaphors and the messages connecting one story to another to yet another and then back to ourselves.
And I’m brought back to my ninth grade teacher asking us “why do we read?” Maybe she was provoked by someone sighing too loudly at an assignment or maybe even muttering under their breath “why do we have to read this stuff?” She asked the question of us all and waited. Someone likely said “to pass this class so we can get into college” or “to write the paper, take the test, get the grade.” These answers didn’t satisfy her, so she waited and asked us again “why do we read?”