Life imitates art

Here we have Willie in his dignified posturing, splayed out in front of our favorite painting EVER. Long long time ago, in another lifetime, or at least another galaxy, I came into a wad of cash rather suddenly. (Daddy died.) One of the very first things I did was buy original art from a few women artists that I loved. Of course they all paint animals! This one is by Vicki Ledray Grabicki of Washington state. I first discovered Vicki's work in the gift shop at Nepethe, Big Sur. A greeting card knocked me out! It was a boldly colored image of a Celtic goddess. The back read: "Queen Hanorah and her beloved Sylvester -- goddess of creation, arts and CATS." The red-haired maiden is naked, under a sliver moon, cradling my Willie in her arms.

Vicki and I began a snail mail correspondence and I learned her Sylvester looked a lot like my Willie. I also learned that I was addicted to Vicki's art and sense of spiritual mystery. My collection includes a few of her prints: Shaman Calling Her Allies; Remembering Who She Is; Queen Hanorah -- all images of women and their power animals -- along with this original from her "Cats and Flowers" period. I also own The Awakening, another original you can see above this post, hanging on the fireplace wall behind Willie on his couch.

When I was deciding which of Vicki's originals I could not live without back in 1996 -- I had already selected The Awakening as a must-have -- she sent me a photograph of this brand new, woman-reading-with-cat painting. I gasped...c'est moi! Vicki had no earthly idea what I looked like, so when I sent her a photo of myself with a decent perm, she too gasped. I love meant to be art. And cats, and flowers, and color and creation. All crucial components of what is mystically inspiring to me.

You'd think with all this inspiration flowing I'd get back to the mosaic studio. Manana. Today I have wonky DSL modems to take to the doctor and compounded tapazole for Bianca to refill and health food store shopping to do. Poor Bianca...two vomitting episodes last night between the time I finally fell asleep and midnight. I'm getting closer and closer every day to insisting upon a surgical consult for her. I don't think tapazole is the key, long term, and I don't think the vomiting frequency is fair to her, me, or the carpets.