New paintings and regular art updates.
One of our cats and a painting my hubby did of another cat thirty or forty years ago. He has his own unique style, I wish he would do more of them. We both love our cats so it’s nice to be able to share a picture that hubby has created.
Think the cat was comfy on our bed. He goes up there and curls up where it is warm and quiet. I don’t blame him!
Getting his zzzzeds in. I love it when he comes in and settles down on the arms of the chairs between us. He has his own sparkly purple cushion. I tap on it and he jumps up. Then he will lie down and extend his front paws. I love touching his paws because its like a show of trust between us after being an outside abandoned cat for so long. Then he curls up and goes to sleep. Yes I know cats sleep for hours. But I see this as a sign that he knows that he is safe now.
#bandofsketchers prompt for Sunday was underfoot. This is one of our cats. We always have to step over him when he’s eating! Quick sketch from my imagination. We do have a patterned tiled floor, although not as dark as this!
I wonder what a cat with wings would be like? Would they flap like a magpie or a bat? Would they chase birds in the sky, like Sparrowhawks? I can imagine them flying up to the tree tops. Nesting in the very top branches, feathering their nests? I’d be worried for the health of small mammals too, the bat cat would dive from great heights instead of simply pouncing from a short distance away. Beware genetic manipulation!
Warmest day of the year in the UK so far today. 19°c. A couple of weeks ago it was freezing. Our cats were out in the sunshine. Basking. On the chair on the ground. The third cat was mooching somewhere in the bushes so I missed getting a picture of her. Everything is growing madly so I had a go at trimming the top of a fir tree (not tall) and some branches off an overgrown buddlea. Now I ache all over, eight hours later. I wish I was a cat.
Chasing, running
Playing, jumping
Pouncing, leaping
Happy, racing
Running fast
Speedy paws
Get that toy!
Pounce on the mouse!
So much catnip!
Cheeky face!
Never seen his eye colour before
Golden and Rich
Like butter or strong mustard.
His eyes glint and gleam
Slitted irises watch carefully
I could dip a bread soldier
In the yolk of his eyes.
Golden orbs full of mischief
Glamour and magic.
Turn them on me
I am under his spell…
She’s only little but she lives to run and play. Half an hour ago there was thundering paw noises from upstairs then a loud thud and she ran downstairs like she was being chased. I wondered what had happened. I think she was playing, but she had knocked a glass globe off the windowledge. Nothing was broken, but it had clanged off the radiator and thudded onto the floor. It has now been moved somewhere safer! She’s OK, just as cute as ever.
The light, shining through the crystals hanging in my window, shone on the cat as he lay next to me. It was interesting to see how the colours affected how his coat looked. He was like a cat trapped in a rainbow. So sweet. So relaxed, lying in the sun, warm and happy.
He loves me I think, it might be cupboard love, because I feed him. But he likes having his cheeks rubbed and his ears stroked. He still doesn’t like being picked up and soon wriggles free. I think he must have been handled badly as a kitten. He was abandoned (we found out from the cat charity we support) so we have looked after him for about five years now. He started out living in our shed and gradually came into the house at night. Now he’s next to me, curled up on the arms of our armchairs, he likes sleeping between us. I think it makes him feel safer. But he still goes out most of the night, even when it’s cold and wet. I think he must be eleven or twelve now. Cats that live outside have shorter lives so I think we have added a few years on to his life. X
Mallaband-Brown