Grief, It's a strange beast.
It hurt when Inky left. My daughter thinks she left like that to spare her the pain of having to bury her beloved cat.
Maybe so.
I've had mixed feelings. I had anger at her not letting me be there.
Silly, I know. She's a cat. A soul seperate from my own who lives (and should) by her own rules.
But still.
I'm not writing yet but my mind has started churning. Ideas for one of my WIPs have been coming to me.
So it's almost time to write again. It's coming, I can feel it.
And I'm painting. So that's a good thing. Paint soothes the soul. If I could touch my soul I'd paint it orange. If red is lust and pink is pure love then orange is an outrageous combination of love and lust. We should approach life with orange energy.
I found this picture on the net. The artist name is on the bottom. I love the mood her work sets. This guy looks lonely but also content. Like he's almost ready to move on. I understand him.
What the parrot is saying: AAAFLAAAAAK!
My children have a strange sense of humor. I know they stay up late teaching him these things. He still has yet to say I love you.
