The Face of Grimm

It seems I can't escape children. And neither can Grimm.

The past few nights I've been doing a lot of research into fairy-tales, and a major (recent) characteristic of the genre is how popular the stories are among children (we have Disney to thank for that). At any rate, we can't deny the inextricable link between kids and their once-upon-a-time's -- a link our original production of Grimm stands as a living, breathing (scratch that...) undead testament to. 

Now, this summer I got a job teaching kids and teenagers how to read. One of the perks of this job includes receiving the occasional portrait from the packs of precious young Picassos (sarcasm alert!) who grow very bored, very quickly, and who want nothing more than to use their energy for something other than telling me that the "u" in "bubble" is a closed syllable. 

If these drawings are any indication of how I actually look, then I should probably be very concerned. (Seriously though, someone tell me if this is the case. I can handle the truth).

This all comes back to Grimm, I swear. 

As the ACR of Fringe, I get exclusive access to Chatter (be jealous), which is, essentially, Facebook for Fringe, enabling all the ACRs in the participating shows to come together in one virtual space to bounce around ideas and questions. This also means I get to brag about yet another social media app gracing the homescreen of my phone. On Chatter, each ACR is listed by first name and show. Sarah -- GRIMM: A New Musical. And then there's my picture. That's right -- the only conception the Fringe world has of Grimm is a picture of my bright, shining face.  

Suddenly my portraits take on a much graver significance. I give you the many faces of Grimm. 

A girl drew this one in sand, right after telling me I got eaten by the wolf in the Little Red Riding Hood story. No joke.