untitled; pen and ink on math paper, illo for a story.
Reading The Polysyllabic Spree, by Nick Hornby . Books about reading other books are a bit like finishing a bottle of multivitamins before it expires -- good for you in a generalized, who-gives-a-shit kind of way. I wanted to get Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays by Zadie Smith or Lowboy by John Wray, and of course the library's computer told me they were IN before I experienced the usual double-psyche of finding them nowhere on the shelves. Or the to-be-shelved carts. Or at the desk. Psyche! Psyche!
Anyway, the Hornby book isn't so bad. At least he isn't precious about literature ... in fact, he spends a great deal of time explaining why other things -- like televised football, for example -- get in the way, or just move him more.
Came home from the studio last night, gave Oona a late feed at 11 and for once I think we all had a decent sleep. The payback, naturally, came when I found myself taking her downstairs at 5:30 am because she decided to get up early. Psyche! Nice surprise in the bathroom when I felt something larger and crunchier than usual between my toes, some artfully arranged cat shit spread lovingly around the entrance to the litter box. One piece was downright fucking poignant, hanging in two halves over the entrance ledge, held together by nothing more than some digested hair. A lovely break from the usual grinding bits of peed-on kitty litter shards embedded in my never-clean-again feet.
Just a few days after recognizing the relative mildness of winter thus far, it's all gone to shit. Snow storms, wickedly cold mornings, colder than a witch's tit. Minus twenty Celsius here today, a walk in the park compared to the minus thirty they're getting up the road in Ottawa. I'm wearing longjohns under lined jeans and I can still feel it.
Oh: and I almost forgot this.
Reading The Polysyllabic Spree, by Nick Hornby . Books about reading other books are a bit like finishing a bottle of multivitamins before it expires -- good for you in a generalized, who-gives-a-shit kind of way. I wanted to get Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays by Zadie Smith or Lowboy by John Wray, and of course the library's computer told me they were IN before I experienced the usual double-psyche of finding them nowhere on the shelves. Or the to-be-shelved carts. Or at the desk. Psyche! Psyche!
Anyway, the Hornby book isn't so bad. At least he isn't precious about literature ... in fact, he spends a great deal of time explaining why other things -- like televised football, for example -- get in the way, or just move him more.
* * * * *
Came home from the studio last night, gave Oona a late feed at 11 and for once I think we all had a decent sleep. The payback, naturally, came when I found myself taking her downstairs at 5:30 am because she decided to get up early. Psyche! Nice surprise in the bathroom when I felt something larger and crunchier than usual between my toes, some artfully arranged cat shit spread lovingly around the entrance to the litter box. One piece was downright fucking poignant, hanging in two halves over the entrance ledge, held together by nothing more than some digested hair. A lovely break from the usual grinding bits of peed-on kitty litter shards embedded in my never-clean-again feet.
* * * * *
Just a few days after recognizing the relative mildness of winter thus far, it's all gone to shit. Snow storms, wickedly cold mornings, colder than a witch's tit. Minus twenty Celsius here today, a walk in the park compared to the minus thirty they're getting up the road in Ottawa. I'm wearing longjohns under lined jeans and I can still feel it.
Oh: and I almost forgot this.
artfully arranged cat shit!
ReplyDelete(btw very much like your art)
Quite the article on Salinger. I love Siamese cats, they have more personality I think than other cats and every time you talk about the cats, litter, mess etc..it only reminds me of how I don't want one. Thanks. Cool illo as always, and I'm freezing too.
ReplyDeleteoh your imagery is shattering. laughter stifled as i think about "poignant" cat droppings.:)thanks.
ReplyDeletei so very much enjoy your writing style! don't envy your weather, though. good luck with the kitty poop.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed Polysyllabic Spree
ReplyDeleteI remember I really enjoyed reading The Polysyllabic Spree. Perfect for those in-between moments where I craved some entertainment.
ReplyDeleteThe cat poop episode made me laugh, I think I know it too well, unfortunately :)