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Cat’s Doodle Dump

@cats_doodle_dump

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I am the devil’s minion and he grants my every wish.

Grant your own wishes and go buy your Devil’s Minion and Loumand joy by the incredible @cats_doodle_dump

https://shop.amc.com/pages/cats-doodle-dump

It’s so cosy comfy! And Literal Devil’s Minion!

Incredible!

I did a wee improvisation for it and actually I think you can maybe get more of a sizing idea from that rather than my stupid attempt to speak.

Bonus blooper where Nicolas and Armand fell over. I blamed Nicki, but I see it was actually Armand.

But we all know whose fault it really was: MINE! Everything, always my fault, in the end, Alas, hahaha!

And… Rest!

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Improvisation 1432

Happy birthday @cats_doodle_dump! And Anne! And Louis! What a trio!

What a sad improvisation for your birthday, haha - oops! 😇

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Fan Art Collection sold by AMC Merchandise. Not sure what they’re selling now. I didn’t have this account when this range came out. But the artists are still on Instagram and still creating and selling art. I’ve tagged them as best I could in the post and will check they are correct afterwards. Please let me know if there are any mistakes thanks 🙏🏻♥️ #thevampirearmand #thevampirelestat #interviewwiththevampire #samreid #thevampirelouis

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Improvisation 1308

It felt right to play for this as a diptych.

Oh Louis… how could you.

Usually, I play the solo instrument ones first, to get into playing mode. But this time, even though I share this first, I played the other first. I felt like I needed to be with Claudia for that time first of all.

Claudia art by @cats_doodle_dump

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Improvisation 1288

“If I had my mouth I would bite. If I had my liberty I would do my liking. In the meantime, let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me.”

Me, trying desperately to improvise for @cats_doodle_dump’s glorious art, without my sole thought being - dastard rhymes with bastard! *titter*

Can I also say, if you’re ever considering if you should tie a cuddly snake around your waist on a hot day… I don’t recommend it!

#violinimprovisation #donjohn #muchadoaboutnothing #shakespeare #shakespearesglobe

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So, I saw Much Ado About Nothing yesterday.

I had never read the play, nor seen any production of it, so it was my very first experience of it. I always fear I might not understand Shakespeare, because we didn’t read any in school. But I love going into a play knowing nothing, seeing whether I can understand & feel it from what’s presented on stage. Because there’s nothing like when art can completely surprise you as well as move you. So I deliberately didn’t read about the play beforehand.

You should go see Much Ado About Nothing because it’s very fun, a bit silly, and it carries you along with its story - even if you’re a first time Much Ado-er like me.

If you prefer raw drama and dastardly villainy, Joe, as Don John has his own intense realm of shadows he’s unhappily residing in to satisfy your every dramatic desire! Can he spoil the joy, though? You’ll have to watch to see…

I loved seeing Joe take on Shakespeare, and I felt that gift where the language lands like natural speech. As characters, I especially loved Beatrice & Benedict, too. The whole cast were so great. I also appreciated the crow who joined in from his place on high on The Globe’s roof for a bit!

Thank you @josephpotter_ for your beautiful art, for your time & kindness… & forever for your Nicolas. He’s realer & has gained a new layer of immortality because of you.

And I’m so happy I got to share the experience with you, @cats_doodle_dump. I can’t believe 5 days ago we had never met in person, and this time last year I didn’t know you existed yet! How bizarre is that?! To existential chats, pedalos, adventures (& disasters!) shared to come.

PS the stage photos are from the pride tour we did, which I really recommend too - it was so interesting & engaging.

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💕🍭HEY GUYS! GO CHECK OUT THE FANART COLLAB ON AMC'S SHOP🍭💕
🦇
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#thevampirelestat #interviewwiththevampire #amc #lestatdelioncourt #louisdepointedulac

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Improvisation 1253

For @cats_doodle_dump

And not for the band, sorry - rather for the concept of making more… and Lestat presiding over that…

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Improvisation 1218

I felt like I was choking. Choking on the endless blood.

But I could not choke because I was already dead.

And I could not cry out, could not speak, could not plead to him.

The only sound that came from me was a dry scream, caked, coated in his Blood - Lestat’s blood on my hands. Inhuman. Inhuman as I was.

Lestat’s Blood. The Blood that still spilled from my mouth.

The last connection to each other we would ever have.

He released me, stood apart.

The wound at his throat had healed already. The L he had carved into my breast, above my heart, was long-since gone.

As I stared at him, he seemed to slip away from me. He was the shadow of a stranger. His face was unfamiliar. I had no memory of him. Finally, his name sank to the depths of some irretrievable place. And I was pulled inside of myself, into darkness, emptiness. The cold, grey sea, still as a mirror beneath an endless grey sky - stretching to eternity.

A deep silence settled in me as Florence - a dead weight - her eyes unseeing, uncaring - plunged down deep into my chest.

Heaviness of iron. I felt her weight in my body, and in whatever hollow chamber my soul had once inhabited.

Her dagger-claws settled into my heart. Her beak was a coffin nail hammering down in a metronomic throb - each peck a piercing pain that relentlessly propelled the unending pulse of my dead heart…

Each strike of her iron beak in my heart was agony.

Every blow forced His blood endlessly through my dead veins. Her mechanical wings scraped my ribs, beating on and on in tempo with her pecking. Their grinding rhythm carved a ceaseless death-knell into my bones. The sound was the inversion of my violin’s voice. It did not express Nicolas. It consumed him. Buried him, the metal digging into his bones from the inside.

Florence was no longer a dove. She had become an iron carrion. Her wings expanded - spread wide, enfolding the entirety of me in her inexorable grip.

I was stilled.

I was silent.

I had never held any meaning.

Her wings enshrouded me, closed in tighter.

Her hold became total, severing all feeling, smothering the final flicker of my mind - erasing the last vestige of my self.

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Improvisation 1217

He’s dead, but still breathing…

Two rather avante garde ones for this wonderful & deathly art by @cats_doodle_dump

Perfect timing for you to have created this, because I feel— I can’t tell you…

This is a weird one for the bit of Anne’s writing around the words Cat chose here. We haven’t seen Nicolas in this moment below on TV yet… but I believe we will now.

I believe it… but I am definitely not ready for it.

This one is the moment directly after 1218…

“By midnight it was clear that he would not speak or answer to any voice, or move of his own volition. He remained still and expressionless in the places to which he was taken.

If the death pained him he gave no sign. If the new vision delighted him, he kept it to himself. Not even the thirst moved him. And it was Gabrielle who, after studying him quietly for hours, took him in hand, cleaning him and putting new clothes on him. Black wool she chose, one of the few somber coats I owned. And modest linen that made him look oddly like a young cleric, a little too serious, a little naive.

And in the silence of the crypt as I watched them, I knew without doubt that they could hear each other’s thoughts. Without a word she guided him through the grooming. Without a word she sent him back to the bench by the fire. Finally, she said, “He should hunt now,” and when she glanced at him, he rose without looking at her as if pulled by a string. Numbly I watched them going. Heard their feet on the stairs.

And then I crept up after them, stealthily, and holding to the bars of the gate I watched them move, two feline spirits, across the field. The emptiness of the night was an indissoluble cold settling over me, closing me in. Not even the fire on the hearth warmed me when I returned to it. Emptiness here. And the quiet I had told myself that I wanted-just to be alone after the grisly struggle in Paris. Quiet, and the realisation gnawing at my insides like a starved animal-that I couldn’t stand the sight of him now.”

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Improvisation 1203

For the exquisite art by @cats_doodle_dump.

If I think about Nicolas as the embodiment of music and feeling, I will freeze, and fail. I was frightened to find an Anne Rice quote. I will judge myself before I even begin.

So please accept these few words of my own, by my Nicolas, at six years old. The first time he experiences making music with others, in his little local church choir.

“”Today, we will sing the Agnus Dei.” Monsieur Fontaine said, once everyone was settled.

He turned away from us and began to play the organ, and everyone began to sing.

“Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.”

But they did not sing together, or even just in two parts as I had done with Monsieur Fontaine. Some of the boys sang the melody, in the middle of the music. The men sang lower and slower, like the ground. But Antoine and a few other boys sang a line that was high above the music. Their song was the heavens itself. I listened to Antoine twice, and the third time I joined in as well.

The music was so sad, it was like angels crying. And we were the angels, soaring up beyond the melody, singing for God, with God. I loved the sadness. It ached, and it made me feel bigger, and better, and it was almost too much to bear all at the same time. But I did not want it to stop, not ever. I wanted to stay here. Here, in the music, together.

I had felt so big when I sang on my own with Monsieur Fontaine, but with perhaps fifteen other voices singing too, I felt vast. I was part of... part of a whole choir of angels. Our voices held hands and we flew together, up to God. I felt connected to everything: the rivers and the trees and the sky and all of the boys and men here, and—

And I could still hear my voice, the whole time!

I thought about making my song a gift for God. I did not know what the words meant, but the music told me its sorrow, and how to feel it.

Could God really hear me?

I looked into the eaves of the church, and I saw Florence perched there. And even though she was so far away, I saw that she was crying.

Her tears were because of the beauty, I kn

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Improvisation 1136

I wanted to play for this glorious-as-ever art by @cats_doodle_dump, but I mean - look at Lestat’s expression! How do you translate that into music? Haha!

So I had to bring in Louis… this one isn’t really for Lestat here… it’s for Louis seeing what no mortal could understand - it’s for Louis seeing underneath. And so, on the surface level, maybe it won’t seem related to the image. Maybe what it’s about is love?

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