Cats

How Much Time for Ourselves?

/ still a dreamer / 6 Comments

Technically speaking, all our time is for ourselves, but when we ask this question, what is implied is how much time for things we don’t have to or should do. How much time for things that make us happy or give us pleasure? And how do we even know where that line is?

The bottom line is (speaking for myself), I am not getting any younger and there are things that are important to do, even if reading a book is one of them, or sharing time with like-minded people. There is always the reality that an income needs to be made, a house kept up, animals cared for, but what about the rest?

Raised in a society that firmly believes in a strong work ethic (which is fine to a degree), we are also often raised to believe that we should always be busy, “doing something” (meaningful is the implication there), and enjoy our reward at the end of the day or perhaps on the weekend. But what about if we toss our schedule and sit and read a book for a few hours smack dab in the middle of the (work) day? Or write? Or draw? Is that tyranny? Punishable by guilt?

Personally, I’m very tired of the restraints that are so incorporated in our brains that they became our reality. But that’s just the old reality we were raised with. I want to create a new reality. I am ready for the book you see here – it’s about changing everything and the way we perceive it and how we live and how we can heal ourselves. It requires learning, understanding, and focusing in a way that we were never taught, or even knew existed in those formative years. Change.

How much time is really for me? For ourselves? Why not change the equation?

Walking Jazzy Home

/ still a dreamer / 12 Comments

We walked together for so many years – she, the Princess, and me, her happy minion – until the day when I walked her home. R.I. P. Jazzy – 7/12/24 – a small art treasure in feline form.

There is never a “good time” or a “good way” to lose an animal you love. It’s always awful. I think one of the worst moments is when you come home, and the spot they always sat to welcome you has no one there.

I adopted Jazzy at 3 years old, back in August, 2013, a few weeks after my handsome Claude passed over. She was a featured kitty at my local pet food shop, looking for a home, and she found mine. She had lived with an elderly man, who, I surmised, had not handled her very much. After getting through an adjustment period, she was not the cuddly cat my previous cats had been, albeit adorable.

Over the years that followed, she became increasingly affectionate, though I can say, she was the most dominant cat I have ever had. It was “her way or the highway” in kitty form – a picky eater, wouldn’t use a hooded litter box, and was pretty sure that I should plan meals and any other activities around her whims. Luckily, she was also sweet and charming, and now cuddly.

Perhaps a year or two ago, her glucose was high; we successfully controlled it with a special diet. Then her thyroid became hyperactive – more meds, which she was very cooperative in taking. Things kept moving along pretty well until about 6+ weeks ago, when she began caterwauling one or two times in the middle of the night.

I followed through with all needed lab tests, but they revealed nothing abnormal. Essentially, she was in good health, except somewhere inside her, she wasn’t. This past Friday, 7/12/2024, I noticed Jazzy acting strangely. I rushed her to the vet, and it soon became apparent, there was only going to be one ending to this story.

I am always grateful that I have been able to see something going wrong and to be able to do something about it before it became too late. I am grateful that there has always been a vet to help my animals in their final moments on Earth. I am also always grateful that I have been able to hold my animals in my arms, and help them pass over peacefully, loved until the end. I am grateful for Jazzy, and all the sweetness and light she brought into my life. I don’t think I could ask for more.

Drawing in Pen and Ink All October

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

That’s the Inktober challenge – one pen and ink drawing every day for the month of October. I completed it in 2022 for the first time, and am hoping to draw all 31 days again.

Artists are given a prompt for each day’s drawing, but we needn’t follow the prompt if we choose not to. For the drawing above, the prompt was “Golden”, and what came to mind was the Beatles song, Golden Slumbers. Even though the song was not really written for a baby, I liked the idea that it might apply.

I’m always stashing lots of quotes that appeal to me, and I love this one by Maya Angelou. The prompt was “Dodge”; nothing of interest came to mind so I went with this great quote.

I am posting daily on Instagram, so if you’d like to follow along on this month-long pen and ink journey, come visit me on Instagram. Every day will be a surprise – for me as well as you!!

My New Website – Tada!

/ still a dreamer / 6 Comments

To be truthful, this is long overdue; however, I am just so happy and so grateful that it is here and up now.

With the new site, I can better share with you the work that I do, and even how some of it may help you! I’m thinking of graphic design, self-publishing, or art projects.

It’s all so shiny and new!! Please take a look and thank you for checking out my new website.

Drawing Angels

/ still a dreamer / 10 Comments

A number of months ago I found myself sketching an angel, but not just any angel. I had drawn a stone cemetery angel. Not too much later, I drew another, below.

I have always been fascinated by the amazing angels that one finds in cemeteries. To me, they’re just beautiful and are so expressive. Sometimes holding the child who’s buried below their feet, sometimes quietly sad, and sometimes they are weeping in unutterable grief.

These angels are found all over the world, but, in my research, I find the greater majority seem to be in western Europe. When I worked in publishing some time ago, we put out a magazine called Camera Arts. They did an extensive, full color photo essay on angels in graveyards and cemeteries, many in Italy, and the extent to which these statues were carved and detailed was mind blowing.

As my life has been undergoing many changes, I want to return to drawing. For me, the best way to do that is just draw something – anything – I’m interested in; if these magnificent stone angels are calling to me, then I should draw them. As I posted the drawings on Instagram, I found people with a similar interest who also provide a rich resource of subject material. There I even found a cemetery angel who did not have wings (above.)

As I looked further, I found that angels might even be animals, like this heartbroken lion in California. And so I draw, “keeping my hand in”, as they say, re-familiarizing myself with that part of me that didn’t have much reason to express itself. And now it does. I don’t know where any of this will take me; I’m simply grateful to be finding myself again.