Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
I love my sister's cats. Maya and Jessica are American Shorthairs, a breed I've never encountered anywhere else in my life of feline devotion. Of course, they don't know from breed names, but I always worry that I've offended them by chuckling at theirs. Could be they don't share my predilection for juvenile humor, which is only natural; most cats don't, bless their whiskers and paws. Size is a real advantage for this breed, bouncy and bantam even when full-grown, ten pounds at their chubbiest. Ideal for a good shoulder snuggle. On the flip-side, being small also gives them access to your pillow -while your head is resting on it. You haven't lived until waking at the midnight hour with a purring fuzzball parked on your forehead. It just goes to show that cats have much to teach us about harmonious living. Pillow democracy is rooted in naps, the more the better, a political vision that has secured feline world dominance for centuries. Perish forfend that foolish mortals question such wisdom; on the contrary, canonize it. Establish International Napping Day in its honor. Now there's a UN resolution no one will dispute: Pillows Not Bombs!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
On week-long holiday in San Francisco, a story idea downloaded into my head and took over and I stopped writing only when relatives put a gun to my head.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Endless experimenting at Picnik. As William S Burroughs famously complained, "Images. Millions of images. That's what I eat." Tonight's recognizes the great example of Dan Berrigan, priest and provocateur.
It's good to have something on the horizon, a sense of destination to beguile the hours and days of our mundane lives. George Gurdjieff thought so, maintaining everything else was just so much fertilizer for the moon. This and other obiter dicta appealed to his many followers, cosmic Buddhahood the prize; the rest of us have to settle for lunar gardens.