writing and dreaming my way to reality
thought meanderings and art smatterings
this is how i start out every writing session: i describe where i’m at in order to ground myself in the here and now. i’m sitting on the porch of my house, black cat Ash lying on the ground in front of me. ageless ash. he showed up one day out of the blue, claimed us as his family and that was 12 years ago and we still have no clue how old he is and yet he doesn’t look any older than the day he arrived.
he’s an alien. and that’s just that. he has big wide front paws, a meow that sounds like his vocal cords are on fire, no tail, and demon possessed eyes. he hardly ever seems to want affection but when you pick him up, if you can get past his crackly whiny meow and sharp claws, he melts into your arms and is so happy to be held.
pretty much describes me, too, i’d say. heh heh heh just kidding you freudian psychoanalysts out there reading this. i can see the steepling fingertips, i’m not blind. ok well sure, as my old theory states, anything can be a rorschach test but it’s also possible to overdo it. i’m not ageless, although i wish i was, and i do like affection but yup i have no tail so ash and i do have that in common.
in other news while i sit, my ass hurts from this tiny chair i’m sitting on but the good news is that i have tidied up…
