New paintings and regular art updates.
Red haired, wearing a striped coat. Creeps in when I’m not looking, steals food and plays with my fur babies toys.
Very vocal when challenged, shouts and screams, but calms down when spoken to quietly. Believed to be a local resident but I don’t know their address and no identification produced when challenged.
May be trying to be a squatter?
I’ve got the proportions wrong, but it was hard to see through my tears as I painted him. Symbol of deep and lasting friendship. I know he won’t be back. One last sleep, nested somewhere in the garden. His heart strings jerked out of tune and failing. No medication for days, no chance of surviving. My greif is astounding.
Maybe I’m too old for them?
Have I used all my 9 lives?
I’ve cared for more than 9 cats in my life.
Lost them all over the years?
To finally end with one?
I want more
More companions
More company
Something to talk to
Something that has the ability to love back.
This lady is loving
But also aloof
Does her own thing
Plays, pounces, zooms….
I was at the village hall finding out about what groups were doing there (woodcarving, yoga, slimming world, writers group, theatre, and more) when a flash mob of choir members came in singing the Spice girls song “if you want to be my lover” in a really choral way. All their voices were beautifully integrated. They were called ” In Harmony” and really were.
As they sang I sketched them, I did a biro drawing in my notebook. I could only draw their backs because of where I was sitting. I showed them the drawing and they were very pleased. I’m so glad I have this talent.
What’s something you’d love to see in the future, but know you probably won’t live to witness?
Due to return to the inner solar system in 2061 only 35 years from now, after all I was here when it came through last time.
I feel like the terminator, inching towards a target, but feeling bits dropping off as I move. Will I get there? That is the question!
A few nights ago my cat came in limping. It was about 11pm but I decided not to wait but to take him to the emergency vets. I rang a kind friend who would take us to the vets. When he arrived I got the cat carrier out. Unfortunately my cat recently had an operation and as soon as he saw the carrier he made for the back door.. I tried to stop him but didn’t dare grab him incase I made his injury worse. I opened up the door to see him dissappear into the garden undergrowth.
Unfortunately I could not follow because of my poor balance and coordination.
Since that night I have called and whistled for him almost every hour. But he’s not come back. My friend has looked all round the garden twice, but my cat has always been good at hiding.
Now I think he’s gone to sleep somewhere dark and quiet, I’ve reported him missing, but there is no sign. He was having medicine every night for his heart so that will no longer be protecting him.. After the loss of my other boy cat a few months ago I cannot explain how sad I am and guilty that I let him get away. My only excuse was his fear of the cat carrier. I don’t know what to do except grieve. I have my little girl cat. But she is very independent and quite aloof.
The tides coming in.
White horses canter
Over the waves
Will be finished
On the rip tide…
Close up of a rough sea I’m painting for a friend. The only time my Parkinsons shake reduces is when I concentrate on painting. It’s not as neat as I would like it to be but I get into “flow” and my movements mysteriously improve. I really should learn more about it but most of the time I’m exhausted.
Painting like this is a way of relearning old skills that I thought I’d forgotten. Onwards and upwards….
I’m trying to paint, and do other things, but I volunteered for something and although I get nervous I can do online things and send emails. But I think I have taken on too much, and although I don’t regret it I am finding it hard to keep up.
Part of that is not being here every day. I’ve missed some prompts that I normally enjoy here. And for the next month I think it will get worse. Typing is an issue. I shake so it takes longer to compose things, so my posts are getting shorter.
Anyway it’s almost 2am so goodnight and sweet dreams.
Acrylic on canvas.
Painting is difficult with Parkinsons shakes. Details blur as the canvas waves (I was holding it), or my paintbrush won’t go in a straight line. It’s like being on a rattling train, or boat surging in a stormy sea.
I keep telling people I’m in permanent earthquake mode!
Don’t think I’ll get in the exhibition but I will keep trying.
Mallaband-Brown