OK, I do not know how long this time will last, but with your blessing, here I go.
I have wasted a lot of time sleeping or lying down. Knowing my life could be only minutes longer, I should try my best to enjoy the rest of my time.
To that end, I discovered a need to have what I consider art on my walls. Art, being personal, can mean one thing to me and a bunch of garbage to someone else. I "met" a couple of artists on FB and after some negotiation, I picked up three works for my apartment.
The disparity in styles says this represents me. Two of the works evoke American folk style. Lots of color and do-dads. They have an air of family portraits from the 1600s, yet a modern twist. The vivid colors come from the paint. (You know, I find myself forgetting words more and more. The file cabinet of my brain rusts.) Ah yes, I remember now -- acrylics. Oh yes, the portraits are of cats.
The other piece is pencil, I think. The Marvel comic-type drawing shows a woman with a large hammer. This heroine bears the name Harley Quinn. Harley's size makes the lighting crucial to see the detail. I think the situation calls for one of those museum lights. She has the gold nameplate at the bottom of her frame.
I am talking with a photography artist I know on another piece. I love to buy art from people I know.
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Somehow yesterday, Pogo locked himself in a lower kitchen cabinet. Sometime after Momo's nap, he wandered into the kitchen. We hear a meow and Momo walks over to the cabinet door, stands on his hind legs (no easy feat for my pudgy one), grabs the top of the door with his claws and walks backward, thus opening the door. Pogo gave Momo a look and ran out of the kitchen. Momo stood there a second or two, then moseyed over to the food dish. Rescue work is hard, you know.
Miss you, dude.
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