Crowley wanted to go with us to pick up Fox from college this weekend past. He did not get his wish but he sure looked cute trying. He’s a year old. Adorable little black cat.

Anger Embodied. An androgynous figure embodies my righteous anger. The Shadow is not my foe, but a source of my strength. Integration of our shadow is our sacred duty said Dr. Jung. Now I understand why.

Luminous baby. Photo from my collection, handwriting on it says “My Eddie’s kitten ‘49”.

I swear, some folks are the sorest damn winners I ever did see.

Detail from the small collage I did yesterday. I finally remembered how to do it and got the right pieces of watercolor paintings on handmade paper to combine. You can see a sliver of them on the far left—and on the lower right is a changeling I painted in acrylic right on the background.

Struggling to return to art—-it’s like pulling my own teeth with no anesthesia . Sounds dramatic, but it’s true—or it feels true. Anxiety causes headaches. But—-I am working on a collage. Letting the layers dry. The tiny painting below is a separate piece I did before the election. Watercolor.

My first post—and it must be a pic of one of my cats. He’s King, named for a character from The Owl House. He’s about 18 months old, and is very much a mamma’s boy.