Fur In The Paint

I had stayed rather late at the gallery the other night, working on my Colton painting. It was well after 10pm and I took a break to rest my hand and my mind, by laying on the couch. I shut off the overhead lights but had left my matboard room lit so we’d have a nice soft glow. The radio was playing country music in the background (a new found interest. I have never been a country music listener but somehow of late . . . say the past 3 days . . . it seems to speak to me.)

So there I am in almost total darkness, music playing, feet up and totally relaxing and I hear “Mrowr!” and the frantic pattering of tiny feet. I open one eye and see a shadowy Budda. Head down, back arched and tail all poofy, spronking back and forth in front of the couch.

Seeing that he is obviously up to no good, or at the very least he’s in no mood to let me relax and nap. I growl out a threatening “Budda!” and he promptly collapses on the floor staring at me. I close my eyes but can’t quite relax as well as before. I open my eyes and he is still staring at me. Tail thwonking back and forth in an agitated manner.

I say “You be good! Or I’m going to have to spank your buttcheeks! . . . Spank! . . . Spank!” (That happens to be my favorite threat. Occasionally I accompany a hand clap on the Spank part. He never gets spanked so it is really an idle warning. Unfortunately he knows it.)

He drops his head to floor and remains motionless. I keep watching him, making eye contact in a way that I hope says “knock it off, I mean it!” He looks away (clearly submitting to my awesome superiority) and casually rolls onto his side, looking off in another direction, decidely bored. I close my eyes.

Suddenly I hear the rapid patter of feet but before I can even get my eyes open, he bolts over and bounces off my shoulder with his whole body while making a loud “Mmrooowrr!!!” translation “Boo!” And yes, I yelped in surprise as he giggles happily to himself while running full tilt out of the front room as fast as his little legs can carry him.

Budda is 11 months old today. Ah, they grow up so fast.

So here I am working diligently and nature calls. I wander over to my bathroom feeling safe because no one is in the gallery. I close the door.

I should mention here that my building is nearly 100 years old. Most doors don’t really latch well unless you concentrate while closing and listen for the click. Also the toilet can be seen from front room of the gallery when the door is open so you’d think I would be more careful.

So there I was, just about to get really comfortable and the door trembles and I can see a shadow moving under the door. Startled I tense up and babble something like “I’ll be right out!” I listen. . . No response. The door shudders again.

Suddenly swoosh . . . the door swings wide and there sits Budda, looking smug. I swear softly and say “Geez Budda, you scared the (deleted for inappropriate content) out of me.” Good thing I was already sitting down. He meows lazily and ambles in.

This has become a daily occurance (thus the photo of him breaking and entering) and I have yet to learn to listen to click of the latch. Unfortunately he has realized that this is an excellent place for him to get petted. (because like an idiot, I picked him up and petted him. After all I am just sitting there.) Plus he is obsessed with the toilet. His own private splash bowl whenever Mike or I forget to close the lid.

Little weirdo.

Recently, I swapped my clay litter to try some of the natural brands on the market. I had been using Tidy Cat for years and have always been pleased with it. But being of the organic minded, natural is better mentality, we thought we’d try a few out. We used them both for Budda (single cat,) as well as the Hell Cat pack (multi-cat.)

We tried several varieties made from wheat, corn and pine. All of them performed as well as the clay litters, in everything except clumping. They do clump, but not the “rock solid” that most promote on their bag. Most often it is more like week old oatmeal. All of them did well on the odor control. Extremely important since my cat box is in the front room of the gallery. (Long story as to why) In fact, I preferred the non-smell of the naturals to the perfumey clay litter.

The brand that I was most satisfied with was Fresh Results which is made form corn and has a nice subtle pine scent to it. It clumps reasonably well. It last way longer than clay litters and is cheaper. The only downside to the naturals is they track more because they are so light. However they are far less dusty. The 99% dust free clay litters, send up billowing clouds when I would fill the box. Nothing visible from the naturals.

Silent But Deadly
My little man is growing up. He has lost some baby teeth and we have begun switching him off his kitten food to an all natural adult food. I do this slowly by mixing in, ever increasing amounts of the new food to avoid stomach upset. That being said, he has been experiencing some gas issues lately.

It goes something like this:
Me: Holding cat. Telling him how cute he is.
Budda: Rolling around in my arms, purring, stretching and nuzzling.
Me: Gee, I think I smell something. It kinda stinks. I wonder if I stepped in something. (Living on a farm that is usually the first thought that runs through my head.) Examine bottom of shoes. After another moment my eyes start watering, my ears ring and my nose begins to burn. WHEW! I plunk cat down and run from the room. Budda tripping along pleasantly behind me, hoping for more cuddles.

They may only be teeny-tiny kitten farts, but they could peel the paint of a car.

Well, it has been a chaotic ten days or so. Budda has been sick. We’ve had multiple vet trips (the last one we traveled an hour away to get some blood work done.) He quit eating. Not entirely, but only a handful of pieces of cat food per day. He normally consumes about 2 cups. I even offered canned stuffs, not cheapo ones either. He got Fancy Feast chicken and cheese soufflé. Let me tell ya, I think had I nuked it and put it on a plate, Mike would have eaten it. Anyway, I have never had an animal with this sort of problem. After much $$$ turns out he is healthy. Or should I say, disease or organ problems were not the cause. Best professional guess is, he was partially impacted in the gut. As long as he ate something, it was a wait and see. Had he stopped eating entirely, it probably would have meant surgery. The good news is, he is back to being ravenous and is bouncing off the walls. (literally)

The other thing is, I have a patron coming on Saturday to pick up one (maybe two) original paintings. I’m not sure how far it is from Ohio to Iowa, but I figured I should at least clean the cat hair off from everything. Thus my blogging and art making has suffered a bit this week. I’ve got plans, though I imagine it will be a few days before I am back to doing anything artsy.

So for today, this is all I have to offer. I am not completely satisfied with my trailer, as of yet. I kinda wanted it to be very subtle and it is a little too prominent for my taste. (though in this photo it is very washed out. I think my camera flashed and I didn’t notice.) Also, I want to darken his butt and neck area up a bit. Give him even more pop. And lastly, I haven’t come up with a name for him yet. Field Day perhaps? I’ve done too many draft horse paintings to be creative with their titles anymore. As always any comments or suggestions are welcome.

I was alone in the gallery and working on the composition for my latest painting. I had gone to the framing room to get my yard stick. The lights were off, since I had spent much of the day in the front of the gallery. Now my framing room is completely windowless, so it really is quite dark when the lights are off. As I am walking back to the front room, I hear the frenzied little pitter patting of feet. I stop and listen . . . silence. (It reminded me of those shows where they have a hiker in the woods somewhere, being stalked by something. The hiker senses he is in trouble. The hairs on his neck stand up, adrenalin courses through his body, and he gets the distinct feeling that he is being watched. But he just can’t determine from where.) It was exactly like that!

I slowly turn around and see nothing but darkness. I hold my breath and listen . . . more silence. There is a door that closes this room off, from the front room. It is open, but blocking my view of everything to the right of it. So I peek into the door crack, squinting hard to see if I could see anything.

SMACK! I hop backward and squeal, in a volume and pitch usually only heard in small children. After a moment, I hear the frenzied little pitter patting of feet running away.

Dramatic Re-creation. Those of a sensitive nature should avert their eyes.

I have to admire the skill and dexterity in which he pulled that off. I mean, he jumped 3-4 feet in the air, shoved his whole arm through the door crack and slapped me full on the cheek.

Well it was bound to happen, wasn’t it? I point and laugh at Mike getting slapped by the cat. And then he gets me too. Is it karma, or once again, am I being struck down for my hubris?

Nature or Nurture
Oliver, the previous king of the gallery, was big into slapping. Mostly he did a flyby type where he ran full tilt, slapped the back of your leg, and continued on out of the room. The rooms in the gallery form a big circle. Which makes this form of attack, perfect for the getaway.

Ollie also slapped faces, and on rare occasion, people’s butts as they walked out the door. One of my customers suggested I make a sign “Don’t let the cat hit you on the ass, on your way out the door.”

I always took it for granted that this behavior was hard wired into him. But now, I think we may have created it. Since Budda has never slapped anyone, for any reason, until recently.

I think it happened like this:
Budda spends time plotting his plan of attack.
He runs in, makes a successful slap.
We squeal appropriately. (the big payoff)
He runs away laughing maniacally to himself.
Budda spends time plotting his plan of attack.

And thus, another slapping gallery cat has been created.

As a young kitten, growing towards the path of enlightenment, Budda faces a struggle between his inner Yin and Yang. Though, these listed here are by no means all the temptations he must face and eventually conquer. These are proving the most difficult to master.

Plants The urge to climb the palms has more than once lured him into temptation, as has eating them, and playing with their dirt.

Bugs Now while hunting bugs is an acceptable form of entertainment. Flinging himself wildly in the air, paws swinging crazily, heedless to where he may crash into, is not.

Making his own cat toys in particular my paintbrushes. Something about those furry sticks, he just can’t resist.

Unsuspecting People In truth, even the wizened Oliver, had trouble with this one, well into his advanced years. Budda’s most recent failure to maintain peaceful centeredness, involved an incident while Mike was napping on the couch. Budda hunkered down as if stalking, then catapulted himself on Mike’s chest. After a dramatic pause, he threw in a 2 pawed slap in the face, for good measure. (I think Budda still chuckles to himself, when thinking of this. Uh . . . anyway I do.)

Water Water is by far his greatest challenge. Any water poses the threat of pulling him over to the dark side of temptation. (Thats a mixed Zen/Stars Wars reference in case you missed it.) Oddly enough the only water he doesn’t like, is the water he gets sprayed with, for doing the naughty things listed here. Hmmm.

Food Dish Water - His water in his food dishes are a great time for splashing about. It goes something like this. Slap paw onto surface of water. Hold paw aloft while watching water intently, realize paw is wet, then furiously shake water off paw. Repeat.

Paint Rinsing Water – Has that extra something that makes it so refreshing to drink. (note: My water color pencils are completely non-toxic. Still he gets in trouble for it. I mean it can’t exactly be beneficial to drink either.)

Toilet Bowl Water – Its like his own personal fountain and splash bowl in one.

Answer me this: How does a cat manage to get water all over the toilet seat, the floor, and half way up the wall, and yet he, himself remains completely dry?

To help Budda on his path towards enlightenment we now, close the toilet lid every time, dump out my painting water at the end of the day and trim or water my plants when he is asleep or otherwise engaged. The slapping Mike thing though . . . well, thats just plain funny.

Upcoming Posts
I have spent much of today, elbow deep in art fair applications. Not a task I enjoy. I am waiting on the UPS man, to bring me a fresh batch of slides for the half dozen or so apps, (which are not yet taking digital submissions) that I need to get out in the next week. (Yes, I did put them off to the last minute again this year. But hey, I was painting!)

I have finished my portrait of Catch and will post a pic of it completed, after Carol has received her painting. Plans are already underway for the next horse painting. I will get some WIP’s up just as soon as I begin.

Also, I have plans on discussing a couple of ways to frame oil pastel paintings, (since it has some special requirements) sometime in the next 10 days.

Warmer Weather
I just returned from a lovely walk. At 5pm it was still 45 degrees. Ah! This kind of weather fills a girls head with visions of Spring. The snow is melting and the birdies are singing. Chicory is dozing in the sun and the barn kitties are frolicking. (Umm. . .well, not quite frolicking exactly. More like, establishing a dominance hierarchy for the upcoming breeding season. But that just doesn’t have an idyllic ring to it.)

Anywho, totally gorgeous outside and the forecast is for warmer weather still. Wahoo!

Reality TV
Now I am not talking about those shows where they put a dozen hormonally pumped, morally challenged young people in a house, and wait to see what mayhem ensues. (If I was into that sorta thing, I would just watch the barn cats frolick.)

What I am talking about is, creative challenge type shows like Bravo’s Project Runway. (Love this show, every single season of it.) Unfortunately this season came to an end last week. The good news . . . Bravo is replacing it with Top Chef. (again, Love it!) Considering I am not much into cooking, I do seem to like the cooking shows. Top Chef, The Last Restaurant Standing, Iron Chef and as already discussed, anything with Gordon Ramsey. (particularly Kitchen Nightmares and The F Word)

Luxury and Features

I finally got myself a new drafting chair. Isn’t it lovely. (insert angelic chorus here) The one I had, was one that came with my drafting table. And being as aged as it was, it had seen better days. It was covered in miscellaneous stains and oil pastel smears. As well as the seat and backrest where snagged and chewed on, by not one but two teething kittens. Also, the occasional bolt kinda stuck through the wafer thin padding, and poked me bum. (I’ve been watching a little too much Brit TV of late.) But the clincher was when a wheel popped off. (Yeah, that pretty much makes it junk.)

So we went shopping for a new chair. Now while this isn’t say . . the Cadillac of drafting chairs (I passed on the leather). It is still a fine example of comfort and luxury. And in keeping with the car metaphor, my last chair was more like an 80’s pinto. Tough, small, occasionally difficult, and not pretty to look at. It did the job, but it didn’t make you want to pet it when you walked by.

But my new chair, makes me sigh with blissful contentment. I mean really, just look at the fully adjustable thick padded seat and huge supportive backrest. Admire, its opulent size and sturdy construction. Caress, the lovely scotch-guarded fabric with that new chair smell. Oh, and did I mention it comes with features (Oh. . . features) and a 3 year warranty. Not some cheapo warranty either. Complete coverage, short of me hitching up Chicory and using it for buggy rides.

Now if it just had a cup holder, heated shiatsu massage and a motor, I would never leave it.

My poor little man just got back from the vet clinic. He has been declawed and dejeweled. (meaning neutered) Upon returning to the gallery, he wandered around for half an hour, bemoaning his fate and telling me of all the atrocities he had witnessed in the past 24 hours. Both Mike and I, gave him loads of cuddles and love. Then he promptly passed out and slept most of the day away.

I thought we might get lucky and not have to declaw him. He started out being so good. If I caught him sharpening his claws a firm Budda No! was enough to get him to quit. Unfortunately as he got older instead of stopping, he would just pause, then continue on in double time. As I would reach threateningly for the spray bottle, he would scamper off quickly, chuckling to himself at what a clever kitten he had become. So alas, to the vets we went.

Personally, I can barely tolerate the thought of the whole declawing thing. As a vet tech, I assisted on all sorts of procedures. Nothing turned my stomach, and I do mean nothing. This was a skill that was learned early in college. I had dissection class before lunch. Trust me, you do that for a few weeks and pretty soon, very little grosses you out. Except that is, to watch a declawing. Blah! But in the end, I think he would consider it a good trade off. A life of leisure and luxury. A perpetually full food bowl, a large basket chocked full of toys, A sunny spot on the couch for napping, and loads of people to attend to his every need. Far better than the barn cat life, that was to be his destiny.

Oh, and he has just signed on a second person for his fan club. (Thats two besides Mike and I, that is.) The assistant at the clinic, loved him. I had a hard time getting her to hand him over. As she cuddled him, she told me all about how wonderful he is. Like his super soft fur, his brave little attitude, and his cuddly playful nature. As I pried him loose from her steely grip, (tiny exaggeration) I thought, “Hey lady, you’re preaching to the choir.”

This month in the gallery, it has been uncharacteristically busy for a February. This is a good thing. (A really good thing.) But it has left me very little time for painting. I did manage to finish up my Earthmovers painting today. Whoohoo! I will post it, just a soon as it gets scanned for the print making process.

Last week, I had some small snippets of time in which I wanted to create. But, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have enough time to offer my full attention to the Earthmovers piece. So I decided to do a small, brightly colored painting of Budda. My creativity muse was seemingly out sick that day. So I decided to try something that I had been planning on doing for years, but just never got around to trying. That is, taking some photos and playing around with them in Photoshop.

Original Photo
This first photo is an untouched image.

The following photos only had minor adjustments. It wasn’t so much that I wanted something to copy. As it was, a desire to spark a new way of looking at the image.

Increased Saturation
When I printed this out, I thought…”Well thats interesting, but it really doesn’t do me any good.” And I tossed it aside.

The next day I had my art group, so I took the painting along with me to work on, while we all sat around and talked. I also took the original photos (not the Photoshop’d versions) for my reference. It wasn’t until I got home that, (to my complete surprise) I noticed how much my finished painting resembled the color saturated image. Apparently on some level, I had soaked it in. (osmosis perhaps?)

Posterised
I don’t think I used this posterised image at all. (not even by osmosis.) But I included it, as one of the two adjustments that I did. I really like the look that posterising creates and may try it again on another project.

Cropped and Rotated
This photo has not been digitally manipulated and was my main reference image. It was cropped and the image was rotated by about 45 degrees. (I did this by hand, by laying strips of white paper over the photo until I got a composition that I liked. No computers necessary.) I really wanted to keep it a small, easy, and fun painting. So I elimated all the extras in the background and simplified the whole thing with cropping.

Bright Eyes - Oil Pastel 8×8
Copyright by Mona Majorowicz

Finished Painting
It is quite a bit darker here than in real life. But you get the idea. The painting’s greens. blues and purples are quite vibrant, and is actually what makes the painting. This isn’t great art. But it was a good way to loosen up a bit and have fun with color.

Budda’s two week “trial” period is over as of today. Mike kinda rolls his eyes at the “trial period ” part. Like, after day one I would ever just toss him out into the cold. He has come through with flying colors, with the exception of one time pottying not in the potty box. Since he is my second cat I am unsure how common this might be. It was early on and it was the first time we spent all afternoon out of the room containing his litter pan. Other than that one time he has been faithful to use his box.

He seems to be a fast learner. He had picked up what “No” meant almost immediately. He doesn’t challenge my authority as much as Oliver did, which is kind of nice. Ollie would do the naughty thing, (say… bite into a shrinkwrapped print) I’d say Ollie NO! He’d stop look at me, then open his mouth and put it over the print in very slow motion, as if to bite. All the while making eye contact with me. I’d say Ollie? And he’d MEOW loudly and stalk off, tail switching in annoyance. I say Budda No! And he just makes a little mew, stares at me wide eyed and innocently and then saunters over for cuddles. That being said, as every day passes he seems to be getting a little more Ollie like.

And now for the amazing Budda!
Last week, I was throwing a mousy toy and he would return to me with it. Now, I am sure to start out with this was just because he is really attached to me and planned to play with it, by me. But I would keep throwing it and he would keep bringing it back. Now 5-10 times might be a fluke but he retrieved it almost 30 times, at that point I got tired of the game. (I tried to take photos to illustrate, but oddly enough they just look like a cat carrying a toy. Somehow the amazing part is lost in the pictures.) Anywho, by the next day he was dropping the mousey in my hand. Such a clever, clever kitty. (See, I told you I’d be bragging about how bright he is.)