spontaneously combust

November 8, 2019

It makes all the sense in the world. You awaken and smell smoke and see that the cat at the foot of the bed is on fire. And so you scoop him up and race to the bathroom and douse him with the tub. You reassure him that he will be fine – he is fine – telling him that everything’s okay. You hold him firmly but gently under the faucet because you are worried about his burns.

The only thing is, you’re not awake. But you’re not precisely dreaming, either. After all, in the morning the sheets are wet where the cat slept when you both went back to bed, and there is fur in the tub. There are scratch marks on your arms and the back of your hands, because the cat was justifiably resistant to the idea of a shower in the middle of the night. And, of course, the animal was never on fire. Northing in the house was on fire. And you’re a responsible person; you know that cats and dogs don’t spontaneously combust. But in the middle of the night, in the fidelity of that instant, you were saving the cat’s life and that was all that mattered.

Chris Bohjalian
The Sleepwalker

The Witch is embedded in our minds as the figure of nightmares, coded as a metaphor, an association. She is one of us only in touch with the supernatural and in possession of otherworldly wisdom. As such, Witches have historically provided a perfect canvas for projection of human pettiness, fear of the unknown and the all-encompassing mystery that is woman. Along came film, extending a powerful outlet for visual re-enactment of our collective imagination, and viola  —  the Witch has form, shape, a broom, a cat, warts, a hut, crystal ball and whatnot. The figure is now embroidered in imagery, and her universal presence is as fiercely visual as it is elusive.

Sonja Baksa

Witch! Witch! She is a Witch! ?

eyes blazing

January 30, 2019

A cat’s rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.

William S. Burroughs
The Cat Inside

Watch the sparrows

January 21, 2019

Watch the sparrows feeding on breadcrumbs
In the snow
Before the cat lunges and leaps
Hopelessly
And they fly for a slate grey
Sky

Andrew Peters

The Cat and the Moon

December 20, 2018

The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet.
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion,
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase.
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon.
His changing eyes.

W B Yeats

Boring…

September 13, 2018

Anti-social behaviour

August 26, 2018

IF ONLY –

June 18, 2018

Don’t you just love the sound of falling rain…?

Yeah, I think I am…

April 19, 2018