My life has been immeasurably improved this last month by one small addition — a pussycat. My Tiggy is the most marvellous, indeed the perfect cat. She follows me around, is always nearby; when I'm in my office, she curls up in the extra chair near mine, and at night, she sleeps on a cushion outside my closed door, meowing in the morning to be let in. Just looking at her relaxes me. I'm worried how she'll take my being away for two weeks. Robin will take care of her, but it's not the same. My sweet Tiggy. Grateful for her arrival.
Good reports still flowing in from So True, including from those who participated. This was my first public reading of creative writing and a deeply personal piece. It was the right community for it - so warm, open, kind. Friends who have been to a lot of these things commented on just how strong every single piece was - perfectly curated by our fierce leader.
And: After hearing yesterday's stories, I had a craving for more, so I just listened to a The Moth podcast. The stories there came nowhere near the quality and delivery of those we heard yesterday. So now I'm spoiled!
Now I have to gear up for travel, always so much to do, to leave house, tenants, kids, students, and now cat in good shape and haul myself overseas. Lists are blossoming.
The other day I was showing an art book about Alice Neel to Monique who was enquiring about her portrait of Dad. And what fell out but a biography of Alice, signed and dedicated in 1980 to my father, whom she called Kappy. She must have sent it to him, or else he visited her in NYC; 1980 is the year I visited her too. Mum always said Alice was a friend of them both, but it was obviously Dad she was interested in; she didn't offer to paint Mum. Or me, for that matter; we met several times when I was a toddler. Wouldn't that have been something! Too bad.
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