He was the best cat. All cats are best cats, but he really was the best. Always a friend. He passed away Friday, hit by a car. I bawled a few days, just remembering my friend. I don't want him to be gone. He was always available for a cuddle, and would come see me always. He had his little spot on the bed. I'll miss seeing him there.
And here we are again. The blocks are up. If only I were a little better, in a good place, I could create content. Just sit down and write. Don't be ashamed because you haven't written in a while. What matters is where you're at right now, and right now, you're writing.
The day is rich and full before me. I could do just about anything. Let's paint. I've always enjoyed that in the past. I don't know if art is serving me right now. I'm at a point where I want to take in other people's work, fully immerse myself in the mystery and intrigue of others. And not feel guilty for not producing like other artists. I'm not a goddamn art factory, turning out piece by piece like an assembly line. Each of my pieces means something to me. So what I don't produce produce produce. My kids are my art, and I invest my time and energy into them. So don't feel guilty that you haven't painted in a month. Or whatever. Inspiration will hit and you'll be able to art it up once again.
