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nataschagurdin:

Natalie Wood in a Romanov dream like her mother almost fifty years earlier, photographed by Michael Childers for the Anastasia poster. 

The production was sceduled to open in February 12, 1982

nataschagurdin:

Natalie Wood in a Romanov dream like her mother almost fifty years earlier, photographed by Michael Childers for the Anastasia poster.

The production was sceduled to open in February 12, 1982

(via natalie38wood)

nataschagurdin:

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

nataschagurdin:

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

(via natalie38wood)

nataschagurdin:

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

nataschagurdin:

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

(via natalie38wood)

PAGE DEDICATE TO: NATALIE WOOD

http://natalie43wood.blogspot.com.es/

PAGE DEDICATE TO: NATALIE WOOD

http://natalie43wood.blogspot.com.es/

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

NATALIE WOOD IS ANASTASIA

Natalie Wood in a Romanov dream like her mother almost fifty years earlier, photographed by Michael Childers for the Anastasia poster. 

The production was sceduled to open in February 12, 1982

Natalie Wood in a Romanov dream like her mother almost fifty years earlier, photographed by Michael Childers for the Anastasia poster.

The production was sceduled to open in February 12, 1982

NATALIE WOOD  (July 20, 1938 & November 29, 1981)

NATALIE WOOD: FUNERAL

At the funeral service for Natalie Wood, who drowned in 1981 when she was only 43, the honorary pallbearers included a who’s who of Hollywood of the 1960s: Fred Astaire, Rock Hudson, Elia Kazan, Laurence Olivier, Gregory Peck and Frank Sinatra.

What though the radiance
 which was once so bright
 Be now for ever taken from my sight,
 Though nothing can bring back the hour
 Of splendour in the grass,
 of glory in the flower,
 We will grieve not, rather find
 Strength in what remains behind;
 In the primal sympathy
 Which having been must ever be;
 In the soothing thoughts that spring
 Out of human suffering;
 In the faith that looks through death,
 In years that bring the philosophic mind.

NATALIE WOOD

NATALIE: REMEMBER YOU

What though the radiance
 which was once so bright
 Be now for ever taken from my sight,
 Though nothing can bring back the hour
 Of splendour in the grass,
 of glory in the flower,
 We will grieve not, rather find
 Strength in what remains behind;
 In the primal sympathy
 Which having been must ever be;
 In the soothing thoughts that spring
 Out of human suffering;
 In the faith that looks through death,
 In years that bring the philosophic mind.
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