Remembering Autumn...

It’s the Day of the Dead, which has gotten me to thinking.  Last weekend, I booked my first commission for a deceased pet—a bouncy, playful Australian Shepherd who apparently met a premature end.

But, then again, I think that the short lifespans of most pets (barring those relatively noncuddly things like parrots and tortoises) ALWAYS seem premature.

Bonding with an animal that you’re almost guaranteed to outlive – well, that’s one of the crueler aspects of life on this planet, even with a cat that’s ALMOST TWENTY.

In case it is not TOTALLY obvious, I had to help send my little almost-20 cat, Autumn, on to the great beyond last May.

It seemed DAMNED premature.  Even at the last, I could still see her as a kitten, when we used to make “cat burritos” by rolling her up in my Mexican rug.  And then I would tease her and poke at her from outside the rug and she would grab at me from the inside, eyes glowing and whiskers twitching with excitement.

Autumn and I LOVED making cat burritos.

So, in May, we made one last cat burrito together.  I rolled her scrawny old body up in her kitty-cat printed quilt, and we took her to meet with a vet for the last time to help her away.

It was not as fun as it used to be, but it had to be done.

Because, even though it seemed premature, it was simultaneously WAY PAST TIME.  Her little body was past its expiration date, she was REALLY ready to go, and those things were crystal clear.  Her last breath was a sigh of relief.

But it didn’t really make it any easier for me to have to do it. For about two weeks, I was just SAD a lot.  And I don’t typically hold onto sadness about much of anything, although I’m crying like the guy from Pagliacci as I’m writing this.  I don’t regret anything about having Autumn in my life for the past nineteen years, including having to give her a good death.  But these silly short lifespans are just a pain to have to deal with.

Even though Autumn remained “my” cat for her whole life, about seven years ago, we sent her up to my parents’ house on an extended sabbatical.  Here's how it happened:

Smokey, a recent escapee from the former meth lab across the street (I am SPECULATING here, but those people really had some odd habits.  Maybe I have been watching too much "Breaking Bad" but Smokey does wheeze sometimes around chemicals like carpet cleaner, like maybe they'd been cooking a batch of meth and forgot to give her a respirator.), had come to live with us after the meth cooks moved elsewhere and apparently abandoned her to starve.  And we already had another cat, Windy.

And Autumn, with her genteel ways, went straight to the bottom of the household cat power structure.  The other two cats, much as we tried to intervene, banished her from our laps, and Miss Autumn was mainly relegated to hiding under the stairs and crying about the injustice of it all.  So off she went to Idaho Springs, where she could once again be the main cat in the household and get some attention.

But she would still visit every once in awhile, because my mother, despite her status as Queen Bee of Idaho Springs society, suddenly found herself incapable of asking ANYBODY ELSE besides me to take care of Autumn when she wanted to travel.  (Despite agreeing to take Autumn, she was not 100% on board with the whole sabbatical program, so that was her way of getting back at me.  That's my interpretation of it.)

Anyhow, several times a year, Autumn would get stuffed into the Pet Taxi and brought back down to our house, where she had a standing reservation in the Greta Garbo Suite for Cats Who Want to be Left Alone (by other cats). And when she visited, she LOVED laundry duty.  I would sort the laundry into a basket and then leave it out for her, so she could burrow into the socks and towels and hang out.  And I got a bunch of great photos of her several years ago.

So I painted a portrait of her, a month or two after she was gone.  That’s it, above.  My husband is not that thrilled that, in addition to Autumn, his dirty socks are memorialized for everybody to see.  But IT REALLY COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE.  I edited all the underwear out of the painting.

Anyhow, I’m very happy with this portrait.  I think that, on this day where we commemorate the dead, it helps to do that for me with Autumn! I feel like I have something of Autumn and her personality with me still and I’m very thankful for the times I had with her!

I hope I can do the same for the shepherd’s owner!

About cats...

This is Goat.

She's about six months old and WHAT A CHARMER...

I was at the Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue's shelter two weeks ago when I met her. And her sister. And her other sister, whom I THINK got adopted that same afternoon.

It was EXTREMELY foolish of me to physically venture into the shelter because I have a very low resistance to the Kitten Time Warp. This is a condition where you lose the ENTIRE afternoon's productivity when you are in proximity to kittens, and apparently for me, prior exposure does not guarantee immunity. (See my post from June, titled Lost Time Phenomenon Explained, for more details.)

Not only that, but I nearly broke the overlords' first rule:

NO OTHER CATS IN THE HOUSE.

Goat and her sister Bellow were so CUTE though. And they were working HARD to close the deal with me. It was a close thing, let me tell you!

But the overlords would have been OUTRAGED. I would have PAID...

And my husband would have been none too happy, either. Because TWO CATS ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH, especially when one lap is not big enough for both of them.

So I left Goat and Bellow there, along with all the OTHER cats, and I dropped off my package and left.

Oh yeah. That package was why I was there. I donated a gift certificate for a portrait for the Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue's "Wine and Whiskers" silent auction/wine tasting event, which will be held tomorrow night, September 23, from 5 pm til 10 pm at the Molly Brown Summer House in Denver. Tickets are $40/person, which includes wine and hors d'oeuvres, and ticket proceeds and silent auction proceeds will benefit RMFR.

I could have EASILY mailed that package. But maybe I just needed a kitten fix.

So today I decided, instead of trolling the cat shelters, that I would look up some wacky cat "facts" on the Internet for my kitten fix.

And I found this amazing statistic at www.catscans.com:

A single pair of cats and their kittens can produce as many as 420,000 kittens in just 7 years.

Wow...them's some impressive numbers.

Also according to this site, more than 35,000 kittens are born in the U.S. each year!

After reading this, I was all impressed with the site, despite its lack of citations.! After all, it was on the InterWebs, right? It had to be correct!

Then I read another "fact" from the site:

25% of cat owners BLOW DRY THEIR CAT'S HAIR...AFTER A BATH.

Okay, I was with them until I got to the whole BATH part.

My cats have NEVER HAD A BATH IN THEIR LIVES.

I cannot even fathom the work that would go into getting them BATHED, but it would NOT be a pretty sight. There would be yowling and blood and screaming and it would probably look sort of like the scene where the crazy Brazilian doctor cut out the American blond girl's internal organs in "Turistas, Go Home." And splashing. Lots and lots of splashing.

And then, after all that, BLOW-DRYING?

I don't THINK SO.

By the time Smokey got to the stage where I should be blow-drying her, I would probably be in the emergency room, looking forward to taking another 10 days of antibiotics for cat-bite.

But I do know this.

There are far more cats and kittens out there than there are homes for them. Cats like Goat and Bellow and the others at the RMFR are the lucky ones. They're in a no-kill shelter, so the clock isn't ticking for them. But most cats aren't that lucky.

I'm a total advocate for no-kill shelters, but without a comprehensive spay/neuter program, there are STILL too many cats to go around. So, even though I don't REALLY trust the numbers on this site, I still agree that you should spay or neuter your cat!

But BATHING them? No WAY!

What I've learned the past three months...

So here are a few things I've learned over the past three months of painting animal portraits. The photos here are of my portrait, "All-American Beagle"--which relates to point 7 below on criticism...and the Boston Terrier has to do with the first point!

Boston terriers come in multiple colors besides black and white. They also come in brindle or seal (black but with a red cast when seen in bright light) and white. This is Rudi, looking doubtful about something (perhaps having her photo taken). I can’t tell if she’s brindle or seal here.

Bulldogs. I just REALLY REALLY LIKE BULLDOGS. Too bad about all their breathing problems and potential jowl infections, but wow, what cool personalities they have. And such expressive faces. And the fur on their heads is SOOO soft. Plus the whole skateboarding thing.

I need to find more venues for getting cats to paint, because I am spending way too much time thinking about dogs’ jowls and teeth. Or horses. I would REALLY love to book a commission for a horse right now!

When a cat bites you, IT CAN BE SERIOUS. After Princess, my neighbor cat,(now aka Evil McEvil) chomped down on my foot last month, I found out that cat bites are really prone to infection. As my doctor said, “It’s like they’re injecting EVERY SINGLE DISGUSTING THING that they’ve put in their mouths RIGHT INTO YOUR BLOODSTREAM.” So if Fluffy, like Princess, decides to fang you, you should get to the doctor quickly and prepare to take at least 10 days of ENORMOUS antibiotic pills to combat the infection! In my case, I’m not sure if Workman’s Comp would cover a cat bite or not! I do know that, when I limped into the doctor’s office and told them that a) I painted animal portraits and b) a cat had bitten me, they all LAUGHED uproariously!

It is difficult to paint while your foot is elevated over your heart. (My doctor prescribed that, in addition to the enormous pills.)

My cats, even though I have been focusing inordinately on DOGS lately, are still very interested in supervising my work, standing on my drawing tablet, blocking my view of the computer monitor and mixing the paint in my palette with their butts. So I guess my paintings are currently both cat/dog portraits in a mixed-media sort of way.

If you’re an artist, just putting your work out there is going to result in unasked-for criticism. And you need to strengthen yourself against it, consider the source, sift out the crap and keep going.

I’m not saying that you shouldn’t listen to criticism. I’m just saying it shouldn’t stop you from your own creating. This just came up because I got the oddest email the other day from a breeder that I’d sent my information to. She very helpfully said (and I am paraphrasing here, but this was the basic gist) that, unless I added softness and charm to my portraits, I was never going to sell them. At least not to beagle breeders or enthusiasts. They like something different.

She was much more polite, but she basically said my whole style would need to be changed because it’s not what beagle people want.

So that stopped me for about half a day until I started wondering how she had gotten elected to be the official spokesperson/tastemaker for all beagle breeders/enthusiasts. I think she really intended to be helpful, but it just didn’t make sense. I’m sure that there are SOME beagle people out there who like a modern and colorful style. After all, I’ve found that people with OTHER breeds of dogs like my style. Why would it be so unattractive JUST to beagle owners? Is it something about harkening back to the good old antebellum days of the foxhunt and wanting something evocative of that?

So I did not tell her what my father told me to tell her (he is a totally AWESOME dad in the artistic support arena so you can probably guess what he said) but I thanked her for her opinion and her expertise as a breeder (she had told me a great thing about the breed standard, which had something to do with a soft pleading expression). And I told her that I would certainly share later beagle portraits with her when I booked them. I also let her know how busy I am painting for people who seem to prefer a lack of charm in their pet portraits (although I hope I was more subtle about it than that).

Then I started painting again…a REALLY ugly, hard-edged poodle, in case you’re wondering, Because I think the poodle people LIKE ugly.

There are a whole bunch of mixed-breed dogs that are now being marketed as “designer dogs.” (Golden doodles, Schnoodles, Maltipoms, Foxton Terriers, Labradoodles, etc.) Supposedly there are logical REASONS for cross-breeding these dogs (like they have hypoallergenic properties, instead of the more-likely reality that, oops, Anita was in heat and she got out of the yard and got jiggy with the neighborhood pit bull) . And THAT IS SHEER MARKETING GENIUS. Because what’s actually the case is that you’re getting a fancily-named mixed-breed dog with uncertain characteristics. And you’re paying TOP DOLLAR for it!

Face it, you could get something EXACTLY like that at the local shelter for MUCH LESS!

I could USE the marketing geniuses behind “designer dogs!” But they are probably all somewhere making big bucks working for Equal or some other industrial poison that’s being sold as a low-calorie sweetener.

IN CASE YOU CAN’T TELL…I like big mutts, and I cannot lie…

Happy Labor Day!

Pet Photos 101: Angles, focus, personality...

This should wrap up the photo advice section of the blog. Now you should have lighting issues under your belt, as well as an animal who’s not trying to run to the broom closet every time you pull out the camera. So here are a few more suggestions for taking photos of your pet.

Angle of portrait:

I like to take photos of animals on their own level. Sometimes shots of animals looking up at you are WONDERFUL -- my most recent portrait of Gracie the Weimeraner is done from an up-angle. You can see it at https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=240991695933716&set=a.199546436744909.48069.199002330132653&type=1&theater. But, unless you WANT the portrait of your animal to be looking up at you, don’t take a photo of them from that angle. Full body portraits, in particular, tend to be more effective when shot at ground level.

So get ready to sit on the grass or lie on the ground. I love this photo I took of one of the MaxFund Shelter cats. And I was lying on the floor (thankfully, it was clean) at the time! So prepare to look foolish! (It helps that I am toddling off into crone-hood and have long since abandoned any pretense of caring what anybody thinks about me. So if you are relatively young and status-conscious, please try to dump that, at least temporarily, and roll around on the ground a little bit!)

Sometimes I put small pets up on fences or shelves—so I can get a low-angle shot. If you know any Chihuahuas, for instance, you KNOW that probably the most personality-appropriate angle you can get of your Chihuahua is by shooting UP at his chin as if you are some character actor in a 50’s film and he’s the 50-Foot Woman getting ready to stomp on you. Because Chihuahuas are absolutely the BIGGEST dogs I know, personality-wise. They have NO idea that their bodies are relatively tiny. And I like the camera angle to SHOW that attitude sometimes!

Also, if your pet absolutely will NOT hold still, you can have someone hold him (if he is small enough for that). It’s easy for me to crop out hands and arms and edit out other restraints, as long as his body’s not in an extremely odd position and as long as his important markings or contours are not hidden.

Focus on the face:

It’s all about capturing the animal’s soul in paint, for me, and that’s best expressed in his or her face—especially his eyes. So take plenty of photographs that are zoomed in on your pet’s face. Make sure they’re also in sharp focus. These don’t have to be right from the front—you can also take some three-quarter angle views from the front (which is also slightly to one side or the other).

Capturing personality:

Some of this is in the face and the expression, but a lot here depends on keeping your pet as comfortable as possible. As mentioned a few days ago, some animals are incredibly camera-shy and a few days of Snausage treats and flash-free photos are not enough to change that!

So…it’s good to have a helper. Someone with treats or toys who will hold them up and distract your pet from the camera.

Again, be ready to be silly. It’s helpful to know how to make as MANY WEIRD noises as humanly possible (clicks, wolf-whistles, kissy sounds, etc.) to get your pet to attend to you and perk his ears up.

Try to capture the most characteristic expression and pose of your pet. That’s what I want you to have in your portrait. So if your pet is generally happy, try to catch him doing his version of a smile. You might have to trick him into playing with a toy or chasing a ball to get that kind of expression. So do that!

The photograph is absolutely key to getting that expression translated into a painted portrait. We can talk about your pet’s personality a lot, but without seeing it, I will have a REALLY hard time painting it!

Happy picture-taking!

What the HELL, City of Denver???

Okay, here's where I have a serious beef with the City of Denver. Or at least with the idiotic copywriters that handle the signs and notices on their parking meters.

Although maybe they're NOT so idiotic. Maybe this is just a sneaky way of making money. Maybe these signs are written by people who use words like "collateral damage" and "ethnic cleansing" (see my earlier post on Words, Part Deux) as part of their everyday vocabulary in order to manipulate people and make money for cash-strapped cities. Just a thought.

Here's the sign on a downtown parking meter where my cousin and her boyfriend got a ticket last week. They were driving our car, had gone to a club, parked at 8:02, and paid for 2 hours of parking until 10:02.

They thought they'd be GOOD after that, right? After all, look at the sign. IN BIG LETTERS, it says 2 HOUR LIMIT 8 AM - 10 PM.

That SEEMS PRETTY CLEAR.

In addition, right NEXT to that, it says OVERNIGHT PARKING ALLOWED. 10 PM - 8 AM.

Also seems clear, right? Those nice City of Denver people--they'll let you park your car there OVERNIGHT. That seems really thoughtful of them.

Nope. Officer Patterson, Badge #230, with the Denver Police, slapped a ticket on the car at 10:47 for a meter violation.

Okay, I jumped to the obvious conclusion:

Officer Patterson CANNOT READ.

OR HE CAN'T TELL TIME.

Either or both seem plausible, given some police officers I have dealt with in the past.

So I called into the Denver Parking Violations Bureau to contest the ticket and, after negotiating their extremely complicated voice mail maze, was told by an unsympathetic office drone that Denver had passed a new law ALLOWING overnight parking AT A REDUCED RATE.

Big fat hairy deal. As if I was supposed to be IMPRESSED by the city's largesse. When they used to NOT CHARGE AFTER 10 pm.

And when their meters are ABSOLUTELY UNCLEAR about this change.

So...if you look WAAAAY down there in the left-hand corner, underneath all that distracting small print with the yellow background, you'll see hourly rates for 8 AM - 2 AM and then OTHER HALVED rates for 2 AM - 8 AM. But if you stopped at the larger print like I'm sure 80% of the people do, then you'll get screwed by the city. Which is probably what the city is counting on to balance their finances.

I asked the office drone if she didn't think that this was kind of sneaky of the city and she refused to comment.

REALLY? DO YOU THINK THIS METER IS DESIGNED TO HELP PEOPLE NOT GET PARKING TICKETS? OR THE OPPOSITE?

Kafka wrote a story called "The Penal Colony" in which prisoners are held for crimes, but they're not notified of what those crimes are. Instead, the crime itself is engraved onto their skin using some sort of diabolical tattoo-type of machine, with the idea that, by the time it reaches their bones, they'll have SOMEHOW figured it out. Of course, by then, well...they're not exactly IN their bodies any more.

Sure, we all missed that fine print on the meter. But it seems uncomfortably close to The Penal Colony to me. And probably intentional.

But I have noticed a trend in my blogs the past few weeks--in that they're rants.

Maybe I'm brooding. I have been cooped up in the house since Tuesday, and only intermittently able to work because I HAVE TO KEEP MY FOOT ELEVATED. Why? Because I foolishly tried to be an intermediary in a territorial dispute where Princess was attempting to annex the west side of my back yard (well beyond the previous agreed-upon boundary) and Smokey was trying to fire back. My diplomacy failed and Princess (who must have been watching Shark Week) chomped down on my foot like one of the Great Whites grabbing a seal on that Planet Earth documentary.

And it got infected (my foot, not the seal--he was WELL beyond that). So I have been limping around, taking enormous antibiotic pills and trying to figure out if the red, hot, swollen patch on my foot has expanded beyond the Magic Marker circle that the doctor drew on my foot last Tuesday. And trying to figure out how to paint while still keeping my foot elevated above my heart.

So I'm probably just grumpy.

Still, I'd encourage you to boycott Denver for awhile. At least until they get a little clearer about their meter signs! Or it might cost you!

13th Annual Take Your Dog to Work Day...

I just found out it's the 13th Annual Take Your Dog to Work day.

Hallelujah!

Then I realized I DON'T HAVE A DOG. And I work out of my house.

So I improvised. Here is Smokey, with her furry butt planted firmly in my painting palette.

It does not always pay OFF to have the cats at work. Often I will find little multicolored pawprints around the house, from when they have "helped" me paint something. Or bizarre Facebook posts from where they have had access to the computer. And I can sometimes fall into the kitten time warp (see earlier post about Lost Time Phenomena explained), which apparently is a weapon of grown cats, as well.

But I usually love it! I like having the company. I think it makes me MORE productive.

Apparently Pet Sitters International (PSI) agrees; they have been advocating pet acceptance in the workplace since 1999 with Take Your Dog to Work Day.

And it's today--June 24!

Apparently nearly one in five companies in the US allow pets in the workplace on a regular basis--even large places like Google and Amazon! Some places even have dog fashion shows, photo contests, adopt-a-thons, and fundraisers for local shelters and rescue organizations!

Smokey and Windy are not ALL that impressed by the hoopla.

After ALL, they are CATS.

And they are at my workplace EVERY SINGLE DAY.

But I guess they don't begrudge dogs STARTING to get some sort of workplace acceptance too.

For 7 rules for success on bringing your dog to work, follow this link:

http://www.takeyourdog.com/Get-Involved/7-rules-for-success.php

And have a productive, happy (and furry) Friday!

Lost time phenomena explained...

After I hit the farmer's market this weekend, I also went to the MaxFund's grand opening of their new cat shelter, on 10th Avenue!

I went in, intending to get some photos, leave my business card, and head home with plenty of hours in the day left to paint.

But my friend Laura said "Oh, the kittens haven't moved over to the new facility yet! You should go check out the kittens at the regular shelter!"

Thanks, Laura. It is ALL YOUR FAULT THAT I FELL INTO THE KITTEN TIME WARP.

I walked in to the kitten room, after a short detour with the FIV cats (MR. WONDER...if you are in the market for a LOVELY cat and you don't have any other cats. JUST SAYING...).

There was PLENTY OF TIME. Maybe it was 2:30.

And then...I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TIME.

I sort of remember Chocolate, a tiny black kitten, crawling into my lap and falling asleep. And I have a vague impression of Bo, Flopsy, Mopsy, Hope, Melissa, Nala, EJ, Oreo, and I'm sure a few whose names I missed, madly chasing Kitten Mittens and feathers on the ends of sticks.

And then it was immediately 4:00 AND THE SHELTER WAS CLOSING.

So I got no painting done because I was ABDUCTED BY KITTENS.

The photo is of Flopsy, one of the culprits.

If you are in the market for a pet, you should definitely get one from a shelter.

But BE WARNED. You should also schedule PLENTY OF TIME.

Windy's Santeria Cat Shrine

This morning, I was sitting at my computer, wondering what to write, when Windy jumped up on my art table and started drinking OUT OF MY PAINT WATER, which is FULL of acrylic and which cannot be very good for little indoor cats.

She is TERRIBLE about doing that. She's not interested in drinking water out of HER BOWL, although she loves it out of the tap and she ESPECIALLY likes to watch when I fill up a large water bottle from our big five-gallon dispenser. Because it bubbles and makes weird Sea Monster noises and she can pretend she's Jacques Cousteau. (I swear, I am NOT MAKING THIS UP.)

Anyow, weird water features and drinking out of water she's NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DRINKING FROM is Windy's amusement park. Along with any earrings, wedding rings, LiveStrong bracelets, pieces of pastel, gym passes, drivers licenses, etc. that she can find and play soccer with, until they disappear under the couch.

Windy, like many children who are confined indoors, is very good at using her imagination and improvising.

So I decided to show you Windy's Santeria Cat Shrine.

It's a little different from Smokey's.

First of all, the whole color scheme is different. Windy, if she were human, would be a DRAG QUEEN. She has that whole Priscilla, Queen of the Desert sense of style. So her piece is done in shades of lime, ultramarine and magenta.

Then I threw in lots of gold paint and glass jewels and dangly earrings. And, of course, paper clips.

Plus, I think her whole expression here looks just like Terence Stamp's character's perpetual expression in Priscilla...

But no false eyelashes here. Hers are TOTALLY REAL.

Smokey's Santeria Cat Shrine

And...after having SAID all of that about the Santeria Cat Shrines, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Here's Smokey's completed shrine. You can see that we have ACTUAL plumbing pipes (unUSED, in case you are wondering) as part of the whole water feature theme. I really love the way her fur glows in this painting. She is a VERY silver cat in real life, so I mixed some aluminum powder with the paint when I painted her fur and it really shines! Using the mixed media and wood panels, rather than canvas, really frees me up, expression-wise!

If you also have a cat that you worship, and would like me to construct their very own shrine for you, please contact me!

How the pet portraits got started...

Technical difficulties have arisen. I have tried TWICE to upload an unintentionally hilarious video of me painting something I call a Santeria Cat Shrine while my cat, Smokey, supervises. No success either time, which I find crushing after my easy picture upload of last night.

Clearly, this picture of Smokey as my muse (along with Olivia the pig) is a marginally-related substitute. So I will just describe the video to you and ask you to exercise your imagination!

The video's not hilarious because of the painting or the cat. It's hilarious because the whole time, you can hear the cameraperson repeating, in a more and more disgruntled voice, "Look at the camera. LOOK AT THE CAMERA." Then you can hear me saying to Smokey (trying not to move my lips because there was a CAMERA on me, DUH, getting a nice profile shot), "Can't you HEAR HER? Smoke, you DUMMY! Look at the camera!"

Of course, it was really ME who was supposed to be looking at the camera the whole time. I look like an idiot and Smokey looks like the superior being that she is.

SUPERIOR being the operative word.

This brings me back to the Santeria Cat Shrines and how the pet portraits got started.

I unexpectedly acquired some raw materials that I needed to, as they say in the business world, "re-PURPOSE." They were a gift from somebody in the family, somebody we all love and who had apparently temporarily lost their mind, which is why this person remains nameless. But they were the type of gift, like chlamydia, or a ricochet regifting of the gift you regifted to someone else three years ago, that NOBODY REALLY WANTS.

They were hideous. They looked suspiciously like old cabinet doors that a three-year old had covered with ivory paint and crackle-coat, and had then finger-painted flowers on them. Big smudgy lilac flowers.

Even Gertrude Knox, the retired spinster teacher in Idaho Springs who babysat kids in the 70's and fed them things like canned peaches with Italian dressing for lunch (which is so bizarre that I can REMEMBER this fact even FORTY YEARS LATER and I was NOT one of the kids she babysat)... even Gertrude would have REFUSED to have these things in her house. They were THAT ugly.

We couldn't exactly get rid of them, for political reasons. But there was NO WAY we were hanging them on a wall. So we stashed them in a closet while I thought of a way to turn them into something more aesthetic. Finally I thought about making them into shrines for the cats. Not necessarily the whole sad memorial/ancestor-worship type of shrine that gets constructed post-mortem, but something showing my appreciation of the animal NOW. Something modern, but still showing this weird type of worshipful relationship that we tend to have with our cats.

Now dogs are all about YOU, the human.

I'm sorry to break this to you, but cats could REALLY NOT CARE LESS about YOUR personal needs. What they WANT is someone to WORSHIP them. Mindless minions to bring them fresh tuna every 15 minutes. Somebody who can turn on the laptop so they can WARM THEIR BUTTS ON IT and send weird updates to Facebook pages. A lackey with thumbs who can hold the door open for a half-hour or so while the cat deliberates about his options.

And finally, somebody to ADORE the artistry of the scratch-marks on the ITALIAN LEATHER COUCHES. I'm talking to YOU, here, Smokey. Every day that you keep your claws is a gift from God.

But my point was how the cat is the OVERLORD in that whole relationship, no matter how much the "owner" pretends that they have the upper hand. Anyhow, eventually I started thinking about this related to the Santeria religion and decided to modify the idea of a shrine so that it included cat-worship.

Plus, I could cover up those freaky lilac flowers with some bright paint. So I did, and the panels morphed into portraits of the animal in the center panel, surrounded by things the animal likes.

For instance, Windy, my feisty calico, LOVES paper clips and shiny things. Basically, anything that is non-edible (hair, potting soil, rocks) and, even better, makes a jingling sound when you bat it (earrings, paper clips, staples, safety pins, bottle caps, etc.) is fair game for Windy to first play soccer with, and then eat, providing she has not lost it under one of the Italian leather couches first.

So her portrait is surrounded with paper clips, glass beads, and earrings. (I used artistic license and decided to omit the hair and the potting soil.)

Smokey, on the other hand, adores a good water feature. Any time Jon or I enter the bathroom, Smokey pushes the door open and then leaps onto the sink. Then she insists that we turn the water on for her. Sometimes it's to actually drink, although more often, it's just for her to ADMIRE. Or to slap at the water drops so they shoot onto the mirror, just in case her minions need more practice with the Windex and paper towels.

So her portrait is surrounded by glass beads, painted to look like drops of water and bubbles, coming out of an actual TAP.

When Jon, my husband, saw these, he thought they were great! He thought a lot of people would like something like that. Probably not people who actually PRACTICE Santeria, and possibly not people who get offended at the idea of lightheartedly erecting a shrine to a cat! But still, a lot of people...

So that's how the pet portrait work got started. It's changed a bit from the Santeria shrines, but I still do those on special order!

Excuse me, but Smokey is insisting that it's time to sit on the laptop...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssddddddddddddddfffffffffff

At least it's not my Facebook status!