we all hoped you were getting better. R.I.P.
We have done what we wanted.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry
of each other, and we have welcomed grief
and called ruin the impossible habit to break.
And now we are here.
The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.
The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.
The wine waits.
Coming to this
has its rewards: nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.
We have no heart or saving grace,
no place to go, no reason to remain.
I iz tickling the ivoriez.
This bizarre print of a cat playing the piano - engraved by T. Hollis based on a drawing by J. Mason - is currently in our Mid-Manhattan collection. The wacky piece was inspired by “the comical creatures from Wirtemberg” by Hermann Ploucquet (of course).
Any requests? “Cat On A Hot Tin Roof,” maybe? “Cat’s In The Well”? “The Stray Cat Strut?” “Cat’s In The Cradle?” We can go on and on.
Rock on, totally weird Caturday. Rock on.
On her website Reuniting.info, Marnia Robinson reported on a discovery she made that may be useful to you. Wandering around a county fair, she went to a reptile exhibit where she encountered an animal trainer who had an alligator resting serenely on his lap. She asked him why the creature was so well-behaved. “I pet it daily,” he said. “If I didn’t, it would quickly be wild again, and wouldn’t allow this.” Apply that lesson in your own life, Pisces. Bestow regular tenderness and loving touch to the feral, untamed, primitive influences in your life—including any that may reside within you.
Thanks, Rob Breezney