Fur In The Paint

So being a person who has a mild interest in all things marketing and image branding, and well . . . cat food, I did a double take yesterday while perusing the cat food isle in our local grocery.

I mean I literally passed by, stopped and looked back over my shoulder and then backed up. Sitting there was stacks and stacks of a brand of pet food I’d never seen before. But what actually caught my attention was the picture on the can.

It appeared to be a boy, leaning over a large bowl, lapping up milk (and since it was a cat food can, well it seems a logical conclusion perhaps there is cat food in the bowl as well.) Regardless, here’s this kid apparently eating while sadistically forcing his hungry kitten to watch. The way the boy is hunched over clearly indicates that he is not sharing.

Yeah okay, on closer inspection (much closer because the actual picture is less than 1/2″ tall and the text it teeny tiny. Photo below blown up 4x actual size) it says something about teaching his cat to drink from a water fountain. Which still makes no sense and certainly doesn’t help sell cat food.

Where was this company’s focus group? I’m pretty sure I could have come up with something better on my worst day. Seriously what cat food company marketing geniuses thought this picture (plastered on every single variety of food they sell) was a good idea?

Of course I instantly thought I’d tell you guys about it, so I bought a can.

Ah . . . wait.

(repeating aloud to self) . . . so I bought a can . . .

Touche’ cat food company marketing geniuses.

Touche’

So I am leaving for a couple of days for another paper making excursion with my dear friend Connie Herring. I thought I’d leave you a parting gift of a feel good photo of my Ollie when he was a baby.

How cute is he?

BTW Oliver was my first gallery cat. It was he who taught me that I wasn’t necessarily a dyed in the wool “dog person.” I found him as an orphan in a ditch on one of my daily walks in late October. He was very young (he could easily fit in my hand - the mousy toy is about 1″ long) half froze and starved, his momma had left him. AT that time our barn cats were onle a few step away from feral so instinct told them to abandon kittens born so late in the season.

Anyway the day i found him, I had a city meeting (our version of chamber of commerce) and since he was so weak and chilled I just tucked him in my jacket and carried him around on my shoulder (one of the few times being large chested is an asset.) He slept the entire meeting until it was over, then he woke up gave a tiny mew. Immediately everyone had to see him and he got passed around and received all sort of love and affections.

It took me about a week to decide to make him my gallery cat. I had never had an indoor cat so this was a big step for me. He was my gallery cat for almost 4 years before he passed away quite unexpectedly just before Christmas. At the time I had barely begun blogging and used several posts to explore my loss of him. I keep this photo (and many others) hanging in the gallery as I still miss him though it’s been a couple of years already.

As a long time gallery cat, Budda has generously agreed to answers your art and/or cat related questions around the first of every month.

Dear Mr Budda,
My cat, Miss Priss is always washing herself. If she’s really that dirty shouldn’t I help out by bathing her?
Signed All Washed Up

Dear All Washed Up
No. I suggest you let your cat bathe herself, or else her hair will stick to your tongue, something wicked.

Dear The Budda,
I am an art student and my instructor says that I have kissing issues. Since I’m not sure what that means, how do I avoid kissing?
Signed The Puckered Painter

Dear Puckered,
Well when my human looks like she is about to plant one on the top of my head I usually put my feet on her chin, lock my legs, close my eyes and twist my face away while mentally screaming “No. . . for the love of God, nooooooo!.” and then . . .

Oh wait. I bet your instructor was referring to kissing in the artistic sense.

Kissing as it applies to art is where one object touches (or almost touches) another object or the edge of artwork. In general kissing is seen as a novice mistake but many professional “kiss” intentionally. . . and sometimes not. To avoid kissing simply make any connections between objects (or the edge of the artwork) solid and into said object deeper than it’s edge. As with all rules, first you must learn them before you start breaking them.

As always, those of you who are googling for enlightenment . . . this ain’t it.

Dear Mr Budda,
I’ve noticed that once a genre’ becomes popular, for instance around here Tuscan scenes and wine bottles are all the rage, it seems that many artists quite doing what they do and start to paint the current trend.

Why do so many artists do this instead of creating work that is true to who they are?
Signed Wide-Eyed Wonderer

Dear Wonderer,
I don’t know why $ome arti$t$ paint the late$t fad. But I re$pect their right to do $o. And $o $hould you.

Note: these “questions” were based on search terms that brought people to my blog. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Budda is currently working hard (well, as hard as any cat works) on a special Ask The Budda: Halloween Edition. If anyone has any questions they’d like to submit for Budda’s review, you are all welcome to do so. Just leave a comment here or contact me directly

I was asked an excellent question by Undaunted concerning the reasoning behind raising the price of my Natural Grace painting despite the fact that though there was interest in it, it wasn’t selling. I began working on a post to answer that more fully and as usual it spun out of control. So tomorrow (hopefully) I will post the answer and comment on pricing in general.

But for today you must be contented with some cute kitten photos. They have gotten to that little drunkard stage where they have to concentrate hard on not falling over. I love this stage. I can pick them up and cuddle them and they just look back at me with their huge blue eyes and blink. In a few more weeks though, they are going to be gnawing on my ankles and climbing me like a tree.

I do have a business post in the works and with any luck it will get posted tomorrow. Also will hopefully get started on a painting tomorrow. I got the gallery put back together and I think I have a handle on my customer orders.

These little ratty looking critters are Little Gray’s (LG) latest batch of kittens. LG is Budda’s mom and is notorious for large batches of kittens. Last year she had a litter of 7, then I added one whos mom got killed. She raised them all up to be healthy. This group has nine (as in 9) kittens! I’m like, “I wonder what the guiness record is for cat litters.” They are a little over a week old and are already beginning to open their eyes.

Lg is a special cat in that she is the only barn cat that gets to come in the house (in a porch) whenever she wants. She also get as much food as she wants and first choice of any food scraps like egg yolks which I don’t eat. Hmmm. . . do you suppose that has anything to do with all these kittens?

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.)

Mouse over the image above to compare them.

I am on the whole more pleased with the new composition. The image went from a 17 1/4 x 25 1/2 to a 16 x 30. I always try to work on a board larger than what I think my image will be so that I can choose to change things. This is especially important when I am still working out a composition. I have never really been the type to do thumbnail sketches. I have tried them but it just never gave me enough information to make any real decisions.

The plan for today is to begin to lay in color. I also have to finalize my plans for the tack. I have to say the new kitten has been a boost for my state of mind, but not so much for my productivity. He keeps me on my toes and yes it’s worth it.

This is day 3 of having my little kitten at the gallery. He is slowly adjusting to the lack of siblings. I broke out my camera to take a few snaps this afternoon as he was thinking about napping.

Budda shares the same lineage as Oliver. (Notice the family resemblance?) Budda’s grandmother was Ollie’s mom. They do look quite a bit alike. I really wanted a cat that was considerably different looking than Ollie but as you may have noticed from the hellcats photos, my color choices were somewhat limited. Turns out, it doesn’t matter. When I look at Budda, I think of Budda … not Ollie.

I am smiling again. I discovered, kittens are a huge mood lifter. (who knew?) I think next time I get cranky or tired I will just prescribe more kittens, continue to add as needed. (Kidding, just kidding. One is plenty)
Thats about it. I’m sure I’ll be shoving kittens photos into this blog quite often. You will be so sick of looking at Budda’s kitten pictures. But hey, I am a proud new mommy. Just wait. Pretty soon I’ll start bragging about how smart he is, especially compared to other peoples kittens.

Okay, so they don’t look it. But trust me they are. I took this photo the day Oliver died. (That is of course before I knew) I had planned to blog about them that day but lost all heart for anything once I found Ollie.

So here they are today (3 of 4 in the photo). They are looking up at me because no way, no how was I getting down to eye level to photograph them. These are the late (born in November late) litter of barn cats that we moved into the porch because they never would have made it outside.

Now don’t let the big eyes and sweet expressions fool you. Thats how they lure you in, yes siree. That and the fact they make these adorable little cooing noises every time they see someone. They are held in half of the porch by a 4 foot piece of tin. So they sit there and coo and look at me with slow blinking eyes. And I think okay just for a little while. I ease myself into the enclosure and sit down on the bench. They tumble around me like little drunks and almost immediately one climbs up into my lap and commences purring loudly. So I know what you’re thinking right now, Umm Mona…what is all this about hellcats? Well let me tell ya.

After approximately 43.6 seconds they transform. One will be chewing on my shoe and one will be dangling from my sweater. Yet another is on top of my head trying to pull out my hair while simultaneously giving me a deep acupuncture treatment. Now the one on my lap at this point usually begins to do one of two things. Either it will be chewing on my hand while I flail feverishly about with my other, trying to nab the one off my head. Or it may have just decided to sharpen it’s claws on my knee. As quickly as I remove one kitten from my tender flesh another is digging in and biting my butt. Seriously. I can only handle them long enough to clean their litter and feed them. Their mother Little Grey has the freedom to come and go from the enclosure as she chooses. (And, she chooses to do so often)

So after all my sad talk of losing Oliver I thought I’d show you some new and bright little spirits in the world. I seriously thought of adopting one in as the new gallery cat but none are really the right personality for me. Besides, it’s not like they could replace Oliver. If you lose a friend, running out and finding another doesn’t stop the pain of the loss. Still . . . a pair (or is it 2 pair) of tiny kitten feet is awfully tempting. Tomorrow I will be at the gallery for at least 6 hours. A long time to go it alone.

It is November in Iowa and so the weather has turned decidedly chilly. Our main barn cat, whom we call Little Gray has had a second batch of kittens this year. This late in the year, they don’t stand a chance of surviving outside. So, we moved the whole family into our west porch (which by the way is soon to be ripped off and replaced.)There are four kittens in all. Three tabby grays and one black. Currently they are tennis ball shaped and staggering around like little drunks. Sooo cute.

Little Gray has single handedly (pawdedly?) doubled our barn cat population this year. Her first batch was seven in number. When one of our other females was accidentally killed we took her kitten (one mind you, only one) and put it in with LG. She took it in as one of her own and her whole brood has thrived. So now we have 4 more, which brings her total up to 11(or 12 depending on how technical you want to get.) Shesh!

LG is queen of the farm. Being one of her kittens means living a privileged life. Well… that is until she pops out another batch. Then they are smacked down like all the rest of the riff raff. She owns the yard. Cats don’t even dare step into it or she freezes them with an icy stare. Thats all it takes. One cold look from her emerald eyes and they hiss at her and run off like they’ve caught fire. Or when two other cats are squabbling in her space, she promptly runs over and kicks the tar out of both of them, and tah-dah! peace is restored.