emmisays

[emmisays]

Rest In Peace Chaim

Chaim Topol (1935- 2023)

For those who don’t know, before I became a songwriter I was an actor, and my first professional role, at 17, was playing Chava in an Australian tour of ‘A Fiddler on the Roof’ starring the legendary Chaim Topol as Tevye. (Yes, the guy from the film.) 

By the time Chaim came to Australia he had played the role all over the world for more than 40 years. I then had the privilege of playing his daughter for almost 3, and our little village of characters became my mad, surrogate family for what would be the final chapter of my adolescence. It was a special time indeed. A seasoned cast member lamented to me at our closing night party “I’m sorry this is your first show, darling. I’m afraid every show you do after this will be just a little bit disappointing.” There was some truth in that. 

When I heard the news of Chaim’s passing on Thursday, a quiet sadness pitted in my belly, as I’m sure it did for so many of us. And I sat and jotted some memories of him down, just a few of which I wanted to share here, for anyone that might be interested to read them.

Barry Crocker as Lazar Wolf (left), Chaim Topol as Tevye (centre), Me as Chava (right)

I vomited in a bin on the way to my first day of rehearsals for Fiddler. It was my first ever professional gig and I was convinced I would arrive, only to find there had been some horrible mistake and my headshot had been switched at the audition or some such and they’d cast the wrong girl. 

But in I went, and sure enough they were expecting me. And there he was, Chaim Topol, this man I had watched and studied on my television my entire childhood, singing ‘If I Were A Rich Man’ just a few feet away from from me in a pair of crocs and baggy jeans. The room was electric. We all felt it. The man is a master. His voice was so resonant. His joy, contagious. His timing, impeccable. And when he was done, we erupted into emotional applause and I took myself off to the bathroom to nervous vomit again before for our first call. 

At first Chaim and I didn’t speak much outside of our scene rehearsals together.  But one day, during a lunch break, he asked me for help sending an SMS on his  new mobile phone. The next day, as he was reading his paper, he asked me if I’d ever played Sudoku. I hadn’t. So he told me to pull up a chair and he taught me the rules and walked me through my first puzzle. It soon became a lunchtime tradition of ours that we would do the daily sudoku together. He didn’t like it, though, when I developed a habit of writing tiny option numbers in all the boxes as we worked. He’d say “Do it in your head! It’s too messy!”. So it wasn’t long before I was buying a daily newspaper for myself at Chaim’s request.

Rehearsals: Shaun Rennie as Fyedka (left) and me (right)

Soon rehearsals turned into previews turned into shows, and I was finally able to witness in real time the incredible power Topol held over an audience. The way two thousand people would burst into simultaneous laughter or tears with just a flicker of his eye or a slight glance up to his “God light” or a shrug of his shoulders was nothing short of magical. 

He had it. That thing. That thing people talk about stars having that’s impossible to articulate and has to be experienced. He seemed to have a finger and thumb on that invisible thread that links all human beings to each other and he knew exactly when to tug at it to make you feel ... well, whatever he wanted you to. 

Soon I started getting to know Topol a little better. Our show tracks were such that we often found ourselves at the side of the stage at the same times and so we started these little catch up traditions. Chat number 1 would fall during Act 1 Scene 2. My sisters and I would be stuck behind the house set onstage during a long old scene and Chaim would be resting on his milk cart in the wings, Stage Right. And every night there would be a mouthed or mimed exchange between us all which grew funnier and more ridiculous as the run went on. 

My sisters Louise Kelly as Tzeitel and Octavia Barron Martin as Hodel

Chat number 2 fell before the Sabbath scene, when both Chaim and I would have a 5 minute break to chat in the wings, Stage Left. These little pit stops became rituals over time. In fact, if I didn’t show up, he would jokingly berate me for “throwing his show off”. (Anyone who has ever done a long season know these little traditions take hold for no logical reason at all and continue for years as superstitions. And we take them very, very seriously.) 

But I was happy to be a part of his nightly routine, because I was enjoying the chance to get to know him. He would tell me about his family. He’d ask about mine. We’d talk about the original book of Tevye the Milkman and delve into the characters and differences between the book and play and I’d pick his brains on past casts and memories. We’d discuss current politics and he’d update me on his grandkids and share anecdotes about famous people he’d met along the way. He’d also tell me he didn’t think much of my boyfriend at the time and demand to know who that boy was he caught me sharing a pint with at the bar last night after the show. (It was a kind of running joke of his to bring the Papa/Chava dynamic into the real world.) And I’d remind him I already had a real life Papa (Papa number 1, to Chaim) and the boy he saw me with last night was my big brother so the next time he wants to burst in to a pub yelling “Hah! Caught you! Step away from her!” and make a spectacle of himself he should take a beat, etc, etc. 

A few months into the tour, I was offered a place at a big drama school and I had to decide whether to take my place and leave the tour, or turn it down and stay. One night in our wing chat, I asked Chaim what he thought I should do. He thought for a moment and replied, “You should go where you want to end up.” It felt like a proverb somehow. Brilliant. He continued “Why would you go to drama school?” I replied. “To get an agent and a job and a part in a show...” He smiled. (I already had those things. Well played. But I wasn’t finished.) “…AND to study my craft. To learn. Don’t I need to learn more?” I asked him. “Of course. Every day!” he replied. 

“But look there...” He pointed to a tiny gap in the wing where you could just make out the audience sitting in the dark. “You see that? Your audience? There’s your education. Learn from them.” 

So, eventually, I decided to stay on the tour, but also “learn everyday” just like Chaim said. The audience was one thing, but I realized there was so much more to be learned from, not just Topol, but the entire cast (full of some of Australia’s finest actors) around me. I would watch other people’s scenes in the wings and ask other actors to do scene studies with me in our spare time and rope musicians in to accompanying me on breaks so I could work on my voice. I also started trying to read a play a day and expand my knowledge of texts and I would read books and watch videos on different dramatists and directors (Mamet, Stella Adler, Stanislavski, etc). I almost conducted a mini bachelor degree of my own while I toured. I look back now and realize how incredibly cool and inspiring and beautiful that whole “growing up” period of my life was. College is great and all but have you ever spent your 19th birthday at a drag show with a village of bearded men singing Kylie Minogue songs like they were straight out of Les Mis? 

Chaim Topol as Tevye (1971 film)

Chaim helped where he could too (other than being in and of himself, an acting masterclass). He introduced me to Brecht, the acting method he first learned during his time in the Israeli Army and let me pick his brains about his own process. For example, there is a scene in the play where he gets progressively drunker and I remember asking him what it was he was doing or thinking about that made it so believable when he played drunk. He told me “The trick is, I’m not playing drunk at all. I am drunk, playing sober.”

He was constantly, endlessly workshopping our scenes together too, looking for new angles to see things from. (This relentless curiosity I’m sure was the reason he was able to grow old with Tevye without ever growing tired.) He figured out quickly how to work with me too. Instead of asking cerebral questions about my motivation or my actions or objectives in the scene, he would simply ask me how it felt to be in it. He’d say “When you ask for my blessing and I say “No, Chava! No!” and I scream at you… how does that word “No” arrive to you? What does it sound like? Broken glass? A screech? And what does it feel like? A hit? A stab? And if so… with what? A pin? A fork? A dagger? A sword? And where is it stabbing you? The stomach? The neck?” He demanded specificity. Quick answers. Gut instinct. If I paused trying to come up with the right or clever answer he would say “No! You’re thinking! Don’t think!”. He helped get me out of my head, listen, watch, then shoot from the hip; something I’ll probably spend the rest of my life desparately trying to do. 

Me (left) and Chaim Topol (right)

But perhaps one of my favourite Chaim moments happened one night during one of our scenes together in Act 2 (photographed above). In this scene, Chava tells her Papa she has fallen in love with a non-Jewish man. He replies with the famous line “A bird may love a fish, but where would they build a home together?” 

Most nights, this line would get a laugh from the audience. (Partly because the line is amusing and partly because at this point in the show people are just desperate for some levity.) But Topol hated it when the audience laughed. He felt it destroyed the rhythm of our scene and took away from the heaviness of what was going on for our characters. So one night when he was complaining about it to me, I said to him “So make them stop!”.  Quick as a whip he replied, “How much?”. I panicked. “Ten bucks.” (I mean, the man owned entire villages in Israel, so I appreciate the stakes were low for him, but equally, I didn’t fancy my chances.) We shook on it. 

The next night, I fed him the cue for his bird line and held my breath. He said the words back to me and from where I was standing (literally 2 centimeters from his nose), delivered them exactly the same as he had every single night for months. But this time, when he finished, I swear you could hear a damn pin drop. The silence was deafening. I couldn’t believe it. 

After the show, $10 note in hand, I found him and demanded answers. “How did you do that?” He just shrugged “I just… delivered it badly.” To this day I don’t know what that means. But this was the beginning of many more bets we would share. I lost a lot of money to that millionaire. Soon he was setting me bets some of my scenes too. And I’m proud to say, slowly but surely, I got me a couple tenners back. 

Some time just before the end of the tour, I was sat at the piano in a warm up room singing something or other. (It was probably “Butterflies” from Alicia Keys Songs in A Minor). I wasn’t writing songs yet really. I didn’t even like the sound of my singing voice at this time because it wasn’t a typically “music theatre” voice and I had been assured I was cast for my acting / type and not my singing ability. But even so, singing at the piano felt like home, so whenever we had a bit of down time I’d steal away to somewhere no one could hear me and busk out a few tunes for my soul. But on this particular day as I was singing, I finished the song and looked up to see Chaim had been sitting on a chair at the back of the room the whole time, listening. I was mortified. But he got up all serious and pointed at me and said… “This thing you are doing? You should keep doing it. Do more of that.” And then left me to it. 

I count this as 1 of 3 incredibly important moments in my life that knocked on the door of a realization I would eventually come to ...that, for better or worse, I needed to make music. That music was a way of telling stories I needed to be a part of. 

Chaim Topol and I, Covent Garden - a chance meeting on the street.

We continued to stay in touch long after the tour and in one of our last phone call conversations, I asked him if it was difficult for him to watch anyone else play Tevye. He told me it wasn’t, that in fact he loved it and had seen it and enjoyed it all over the world in every language. He insisted Tevye was just a great part in an incredible play and the truth is anyone who plays him will do it well if they just speak the lines and get out of the way, etc, etc. He described himself as “lucky”. Respectfully, I beg to differ.

I will close now, because I only meant to write a couple of paragraphs and this has turned into something of a novel. 

But Chaim, if you are looking down, I hope you have a seat by the Eastern wall. And thank you for the memories and a masterclass of a lifetime.

Rest In Peace, Papa Number 2.

#topol #chaim topol #chaimtopol #tevye #rip topol #fiddler on the roof #chava

[emmisays]

My ‘HELLO. WELCOME.’ era

As a writer, I live in constant hope that a metaphor will present itself to me. On a train. At a bar. From the lips of a stranger. In the early hours...

But recently one showed up at my literal door step. And for the first time in a long time, I sat down and wrote. Not a song. Or a hook. And not for anyone or anything in particular. I just wrote. And, as I haven’t shared any music for a little while (I’m sorry and thank you for still being here), I thought I’d share said musings here instead, as a way of checking in and perhaps offering some explanation as to why I’ve been a little quieter than usual of late. So if you aren’t adverse to more than 142 characters in one sitting (I love you), read on... 

Storytime. 

This here is a picture of the corridor at the entrance to my last place.

The day we arrived, only my neighbors had a mat. But as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to buy my own to complete the set. 

I have no idea if the neighbors approved of my little mat jape. We never spoke about it. In fact, we never spoke. (For those of you who don’t live in New York, this is considered the height of good neighborly etiquette. Pretending no one living in the same building as you actually exists is the gift we all give each other.) But whatever their feelings, I personally enjoyed our unspoken hallway banter. The mats always made me smile when I came home. And one of my favourite things to do was to tell visiting friends and guests “I’m the flat at the end of the corridor” so I could watch through the peephole to see which door they assumed was mine. (Shame on you, by the way, if you thought mine was the “Not Welcome” mat. But then again, almost everyone did.)

Soon though it was time to move and I had to pick up my beloved welcome mat and lay it next to a new neighbor’s. 

I took this picture the day we moved in...

To be honest, I was disappointed. My new neighbor’s mat was polite and lovely. Ugh. Boring. I let out a little sigh as I laid it down.

But as I stood up to step over the threshold something hit me in the gut. A good feeling. And a certain calm came over me. And it all felt significant somehow. “Actually, yes! This is good. Hello, Welcome. This is a new start.”

You see, without going into it all here, this year has been a time of quiet recalibration for me. I’ve been cleaning out the home of my “self”, Marie Kondo style, emptying out all the rooms of my heart and mind and turning over each piece of me I find as I ask myself  “Are we taking this with us? Or can we thank this for its service and let this go?”

And in this process, one of the biggest and hardest things I have learned about myself is how instinctively I jump to judge my own thoughts and feelings and desires as either...

POSITIVE or NEGATIVE

GOOD or BAD

RIGHT or WRONG and...

(You saw this coming right?) WELCOME or NOT WELCOME.

When an emotion shows up, my natural filter butler tends to greet it at the door and very quickly decides whether our new guest is a welcome one or not.

The “good” guests are welcomed, warmly. “Ah, Gratitude! Come in, sit down, make yourself at home. You’re so welcome!” The “bad”, however, are ushered up the stairs and locked in the attic. “Anger? We weren’t expecting you. We’d just made up the rooms for Joy. This is most inconvenient. Get up there.” These guests are usually shoved into a dark, locked room and ignored.

Not to labour the point, it turns out I have “WELCOME” and “UNWELCOME” rooms in the house of my mind too. And, as anyone with anxiety will relate, my worst days usually follow a season of so-called “unwelcome” feelings arriving at my door at once.  

One by one I lock them away in the attic of my mind, hoping they will just go away. But they never do of course. It turns out feelings don’t go anywhere until they’ve been given the chance to tell you whatever it is they need you to hear, no matter how helpful or unhelpful their message might be. So when you lock them away and ignore them... and ignore them... and ignore them (as I have been doing to mine for some time now)... they start finding fun new ways to get your attention. They tap on the walls at first. Then bang their fists. Soon they’re stomping on the floors at 3am as you try to sleep. And if you still don’t go up there to see what all the fuss is about, eventually they will set your whole damn house on fire, much like that blokes “mad” wife in ‘Jane Eyre’. 

My point is, locking your emotions away in an attic will be as successful as imprisoning your weird wife in the attic of your home. (I highly recommend not doing either. Your next relationship thanks you.)

So this year, I have been trying something new. Which, thanks to my door mat, I am now dubbing my “Hello, Welcome! Era”. Slowly but surely I have been opening all the locked doors in the house of me and saying “Ok. Come on out. I’m listening.” It’s been a wild ride. Equal parts messy and beautiful and helpful and unhelpful. But the trickiest part? Retiring that critical (but well-meaning) butler and taking charge of my own house again. Not as a judge but as an observer. To simply open the door and greet whatever arrives with an impartial “HELLO. WELCOME.” And let it in.

When joy or desire shows up, I am practicing simply holding it. Watching it. Noticing how it feels in my home. And allowing it to stay as long as it will, without first deciding whether I deserve it, whether I should allow myself to feel it when those I love are somewhere suffering, or whether it’s childish or silly or wrong. And when a wave of sadness or discomfort or fear surges in my belly, I don’t immediately push it upstairs before it can reach me. I take a breath and open the door, and say “HELLO. WELCOME.” And let it come in and take a seat at my table. And I listen. Because I know now, that no matter how inconvenient or difficult or challenging a feeling might be, no guest is worse to deal with upon arrival than they are after months (or indeed years) of gagged captivity. 

It’s an ongoing process of course, one I am yet to master. But since I embarked on this, my “HELLO. WELCOME.” era, life has just been calmer. There is peace. We’re all mad here. But there’s a certain calm to my chaos these days. 

It turns out having tenants living in your home instead of prisoners makes for a much nicer life. No one’s trying to burn my house down anymore. 

END.

If you’re still reading, thank you. And have a Happy Christmas. And if for whatever reason that won’t be possible for you and yours this year, consider this a virtual hug from me to you and your most difficult guests. 

Keep going.

Love, Em x

#mental health #christmas #welcome #psychology

[emmisays]

Happy Mother’s Day mum. I love and miss you SO very much. I really struck lucky when I got you for a mum. ❤️ But listen, until I see you and Joni Mitchell in the same room together I’m gonna hold on to my conspiracy theory with both hands. Excellent work on Both Sides Now btw… https://www.instagram.com/p/CdTEFiGuD2R/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[emmisays]

Happy birthday #Shakespeare Can you believe it? It was exactly 1 year ago yesterday (Will’s alleged birth and death day) that I announced the birth of my concept project “PLAYERS”; An album /a show / a world… Full of today pop songs Each inspired by a different character from the #plays of #WilliamShakespeare 🎭 Whatever this mad little mixtape turns into as we go (A double album? A show? A movie?) … I am just so grateful for it. She has taught me joy. How to chase it. How to feel it. Let it in. But she has also taught me how to stand taller. Little by little she is coaxed me into stepping more into my power, to take up space and be seen and heard, with gusto. At first musically. (The easy bit.) But then, as a person. (The hard bit.) It’s a process. A long one. But I’m on my way. Maybe I always will be. Perhaps we always are… Anyway. Just wanted to say thank you for being here with me for the ride. I have no label and no team. I’m just a gal in her bedroom with a scrapbook and some thrift clothes and a wild imagination. But having you dream and love this music alongside me makes me feel like maybe I’m not so mad after all, and emboldens me to keep going. So … thank you. Lots of music coming this year. Hold tight. X (at Manhattan, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccvi8V_OQ_v/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#shakespeare #plays #williamshakespeare

[emmisays]

Sometimes when I drop off my clothes to thrift stores… I apologize… https://www.instagram.com/p/CcVpcbBKn-Q/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[emmisays]

“The fool doth think he is wise; but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” - W.S. Happy #Aprilfools players! 🎭 (at Manhattan, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb0bgFuO3EM/?utm_medium=tumblr

#aprilfools

[emmisays]

Thank you so much for playing, sharing and loving #JustDieOnce 🗡 Players. And a special thank you for all your beautiful messages about what it means for you. It seems many of you are going through an incredibly tough time right now. So this is me sending all of your hearts a virtual hug. Swipe 1- me the day I wrote JDO in LA. My first ever session with @troysamuela Swipe 2 - me recording Troy who I coerced into adding his voice to my choir. (All New Zealanders can sing. It’s a fact… ) 3/4: JDO’s first spin on the Beeb! Thanks to my kindred nerdy spirit, the legend that is @sarahgozzo 🥰 (Link to the show if you want to listen back in my stories… @bbcintroducing @bbcintroducingsouthandwest and leave some love! ) 5: I don’t even know anymore… it’s all ridiculous … #shakespeare #nmf #justdieonce #emmi #players #newsong #pop #newpop #bestnewpop #songwriter #studio #writer #studiolife https://www.instagram.com/p/CbO0uwLPL22/?utm_medium=tumblr

#justdieonce #shakespeare #nmf #emmi #players #newsong #pop #newpop #bestnewpop #songwriter #studio #writer #studiolife

[emmisays]

“Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.” - ‘Julius Caesar’ (Shakespeare) For those asking for clarity… yes! Dropping ‘Just Die Once’ on March 15th, the #IdesOfMarch was wholly intentional. The song is based on Julius Caesar. Who was allegedly murdered on that day. (LINK IN BIO ✨if you haven’t heard it) Just Die Once is only part 1 of his story. I think it should be the final song of Act 1 of our little #Players 🎭 pop opera. Then we have an interval and you all go and get 🍦 🍷 🥃 And I hit you with his part 2, top of the second act … 🌝 Sound good? #Players #conceptalbum #shakespeare #juliuscaesar #caesar #idesofmarch #bewaretheidesofmarch #existential #newsong #songwriter #history #justdieonce (at Rome) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbISR39vike/?utm_medium=tumblr

#idesofmarch #players #conceptalbum #shakespeare #juliuscaesar #caesar #bewaretheidesofmarch #existential #newsong #songwriter #history #justdieonce

[emmisays]

We love to see it! Swipe right for some Aussie love for #PrettyBoy over on @triple_j @triple_j_unearthed ✨ 🦋 🇦🇺 Thank you @daverubyhowe and @abbzbutler for the kind words and for all the plays! I’ve been super homesick this week so this really warmed my heart. (Also enjoy this unseen artwork I shot during hotel quarantine in Sydney last year. I was beside myself.) New music incoming Players … 🗡 (at Sydney, Australia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CaFUqDxOMoO/?utm_medium=tumblr

#prettyboy

[emmisays]

#HappyValentinesDay ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CZ9rVOLu0ZT/?utm_medium=tumblr

#happyvalentinesday

[emmisays]

Morning La La land ☀️ 🏴‍☠️ 🧚🏻 (at West Hollywood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZILPVRvDBt/?utm_medium=tumblr

[emmisays]

Happy new year Players 🎭 Swipe right for a trip down memory lane of all the songs we shared in #2021 Thank you for crawling into my dream with me. It means the world to me. See you in #2022 for more stories and magic ✨ Love, Em x https://www.instagram.com/p/CYJ9KDrqoKz/?utm_medium=tumblr

#2021 #2022

[emmisays]

This is what happens when you ask me to help with the Christmas crackers. In go the quotes from our Will … 🌝🎭🎄 Sending my #Players round the world all my belated love for yesterday, love for today and love for all your tomorrows. And sending an extra tight hug to those for whom “Have a Merry Christmas” is too hard an ask this year; those who are isolating, isolated, missing or grieving someone they love, sick or caring for those who are. May a little peace meet you wherever you are. Love, Aunty Em x PS on a personal note thank you, my #Players for being here. I am growing to love this little community. Your wonderful letters and messages. Your kindness. Our shared nerdy-ness and “other”ness funeral passion for feeling the feelings of this life in all it’s beautiful and ugly glory. I feel I have found a few thousand friends. And I’m so grateful. And as the saying goes we may be “little” but we “are fierce”. Here’s to another year of stories. #shakespeare #shakespearequotes #christmascrackers #quotes https://www.instagram.com/p/CX9JaIrqxpY/?utm_medium=tumblr

#players #shakespeare #shakespearequotes #christmascrackers #quotes

[emmisays]

I wrote #FirstPlaneHome ✈️ as a letter to my family last year in 2020. When I couldn’t get home for Christmas. Because of Covid restrictions. Now, a year on, in 2021… Sadly we are still separated. The West Australian border remains closed hard, with no exceptions. And while I am lucky enough to have found a way to get back to my little sister this year and wrap my arms around her, I wasn’t able to cross state borders to see my parents and the rest of my family. So this Christmas will mark 2 years since I last saw them. We talk almost every day. I don’t know what we’d without video chats and calls. And still I miss them so much it physically aches sometimes. Because no screen can replace sharing the same air as your people. But as the song goes, I am so grateful they are “mine to miss”. And we remain hopeful for a safe reopening of the state soon. Anyway, this song goes out to my fellow #westaustralians … and to people all over the world separated from loved ones this year due to #covid and other circumstances. Consider this your musical hug from me. And hey. If you can’t find the words on text or calls… send your people a song. That’s what I do anyway 😌 Stay safe. All my love, Emmi x #christmas #christmas2020 #christmas2021 #covidchristmas #collage #collageart #collagevideo #lyrics #lyricvideo #family @mark_mcgowan_mp #homesick #westaustralia https://www.instagram.com/tv/CXvX7Vwl5Iq/?utm_medium=tumblr

#firstplanehome #westaustralians #covid #christmas #christmas2020 #christmas2021 #covidchristmas #collage #collageart #collagevideo #lyrics #lyricvideo #family #homesick #westaustralia

[emmisays]

A dump. Sorry I’m quiet. I tend to go quiet on here when I’m either A) resting / being present with people I love or B) when I’m up to something / busy And the last fortnight … I’ve been both. And reminding myself both are ok and equally important. The world will keep turning if you sit still for a moment. Anyway. I hope you’re all ok. Stay safe. It’s wild out there. Love Em x https://www.instagram.com/p/CXq6-6BtN9C/?utm_medium=tumblr

[emmisays]

November. 🙃 (at Manhattan, New York) https://www.instagram.com/emmi/p/CXKYQR6M2mT/?utm_medium=tumblr

[emmisays]

Just for fun... some stills from the #PrettyBoy 🦋 #collage vid I made you. (Link in bio!) It’s all madness of course. But such is life. Have you seen it? If not, why not? What’s your favourite scene? X PS Don’t forget to share the video/song and tag me with this ✉️ emoji if you want a Christmas letter. I’m writing them this weekend... https://www.instagram.com/p/CWqoWNDlt7Y/?utm_medium=tumblr

#prettyboy #collage