Daily Sketch: Art Cat

pastel painting of cat with brushes and paints

Art Cat, pastel © B.E. Kazmarski

Above is the original scan of the painting, color balanced as closely as I could get it. At the bottom of this post is the photographed edition. Neither is truly correct! But I’m moving on. See if you can find the differences.

I’m trying out a new type of drawing paper with my wonderfully soft Sennelier pastels. What better to test on than my cats?

This is Fabriano Pastello Tiziano, a heavy-duty lightly-textured paper meant for soft pastels. The background color is the color of the paper, and I thought I’d like a backlit scene so that I could pull the highlights up against the dark shapes and the mid-range background. I like the paper, mostly because the pastels work so well on it.

Here, beginning as Mr. Sunshine and ending up as Mewsette (they are very similar in shape and size), she twirls around to wash her hip, sitting next to little jars of fabric paint and my jar of watercolor brushes. I kept everything in the more vibrant red and blue range with highlights of yellow and just a touch of green.

Problem is, the colors in this are wrong! I actually use my scanner for my daily sketches, much more efficient than photographing and downloading since I download dozens of photos and need to deal with them all; this way I scan one image. But the scanner isn’t always accurate, as now. The highlights on the objects on the left are much more clear and bold and those objects are overall, believe it or not, much brighter.

Mewsette is way far off! Where you see the burgundy is actually a vibrant red-violet, and more of it. Around that is a navy blue which is actually a deep purple. Then that lovely turquoise, which I like, is actually a cornflower blue with just a hint of violet. I used all that purple to complement the orange and yellow highlights, but I guess my scanner knows better.

I would need daylight and the good camera to get this one right. I will do that tomorrow or the next day and update.

But I like the sketch and I have missed two days. Fridays are busy at my computer closing out weekly work with customers, and Saturday I was gone all day, but today I have time for experimentation.

And here is the revised photo of the sketch. I didn’t change the sketch at all, just photographed it in daylight instead of scanning it. Normally I photograph outdoors with reflected daylight because it’s the most balanced, but not for this sketch! I had to photograph it in full sun to get the colors correct, and they are still not quite there but I’m over it. There are things I like about each of them even though they are the same image.

pastel sketch of cat and art materials

Art Cat, pastel, rephotographed © B.E. Kazmarski

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Click here to see other daily sketches.

For a gallery of the ones available for sale, visit my Etsy shop in the “Daily Sketches” section.

Read about the reason for the daily sketches in The Artist’s Life: Daily Sketches.

And read about purchasing them and requesting them as a donation item for your shelter or rescue group in The Artist’s Life: Daily Sketches for Sale and Donation.

All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in purchasing one as a print, or to use in a print or internet publication.


Al Fresco: From A Year Ago

tortoiseshell cat with weatherfish

Cookie communes once again with the weatherfish and pokes her nose on dry grass.

I’m not focusing on photos of Cookie from last year—she showed up about twice a week just because. This is pretty much what my yard looks like now, and Mimi and me have been exploring and remembering Cookie in all these places. Mimi still needs a leash, though; she stays right with me, then suddenly wants to take off to the front yard. We have to work on that.

Cookie communes with the weatherfish as we explore the backyard on an unusually warm, windy day.

tortoiseshell cat on deck

Cookie tells me to get a move on.

We’ve been going outside every day all winter long, but Cookie found the snow and ice just weren’t fun anymore on her 19-year-old paws, so we mostly stayed on the deck. But today we explored the yard in all its winter tatters.

Cookie knows I prefer her to wait for me to come with her into the yard, so she pauses at the top of the steps—but her expression is, “As soon as you turn around, I’m going to run down these steps.” She did. I followed. Sometimes my position of authority means nothing.

tortoiseshell cat on lap

Cookie on my lap on the steps.

But after a little sojourn including the weatherfish, under the deck, the fallen branch, picnic table and park bench, our favorite thing is just to sit together.

I’m so glad Cookie and I can share this time. She doesn’t move as well as she used to, but then all she needs to do is walk around the yard at her own pace. She and I also remember other friends who used to share our time in the backyard.

Plus it’s only February and the tomorrow weather will change and I know it will be a while before we get a day this nice again.

While Cookie and I were sitting on the steps, we were being very still so we could count the birds in our yard for the Great Backyard Bird Count, today, February 18, through Monday, February 22. I’ve been participating in this bird count and others for years, and tomorrow I’ll be writing about how to participate in bird counts and why it’s fun and important. (I actually wrote about this on Friday in It’s the Great Backyard Bird Count. Mimi and I counted today.)

Until then, curl up with your kitties as the temperature drops, and study your bird identification books!

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To see more daily photos go to “Daily Images” in the menu and choose “All Photos” or any other category.

All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in purchasing one as a print, or to use in a print or internet publication.


Why Are We Here?

two black cats crouching on table

Why are we here?

Giuseppe, do you think there’s a reason why we’re here?

You mean, like on this table? We sit here every morning…

No, stupid, a reason why we’re…like, on this planet, maybe in this country or here, in this house, with Mama Bernadette?

Where else would we be?

Well, there are cats everywhere. We could be somewhere else instead of here.

We’ve never been anywhere else.* What would make you think we could be anywhere else? We’re like a part of here.

No, Mama Mimi was somewhere else before, and she was there, she was a part of that place, until she came here.

Okay.

And she was somewhere even before that, a few somewheres—those people took her from the big building she told us about with all the other cats—and dogs and rabbits and other things—and before that she was in a house with some people with her mama.

So…?

So why is she here now, and why didn’t we move around like she did?

Jelly Bean, I don’t understand.

Don’t you think about these things?

No, we’re here, why worry?

Do you remember Fromage?

Sure, I remember our little foster sister.

She was lost and all alone. How did that happen? And how did she get to be here?

Mama Bernadette’s friend the tall lady brought her one morning, and then she came and took her away after we taught her how to be a cat. I think that’s where she lives now. There’s no mystery about that. We saw it all happen.

Imagine what life would be like if we were out there [gesturing out the window behind them] somewhere like Fromage. How would we get to where we are supposed to be?

Well, Jelly Bean, I wonder sometimes why I’m here and Mlle. is in Kingston if we’re supposed to be together.

See? I’m trying to put it all together, and I just can’t figure out why we’re here.

Boys, what are you up to? You look like you’re hatching a sort of a plan, or you’re in some deep metaphysical discussion…

two black cats on table

What are you looking at?

Do you suppose Mama Bernadette thinks about these things?

I’m sure she does. I think I need a nap.

*Actually, they were in “the other house” for their first three days, they just don’t remember. I didn’t want to try to explain.

A few other posts showing the boys at their stuff on the table in the morning:

Let’s Shake on It

That Does It!

I Knight Thee…
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To see more daily photos go to “Daily Images” in the menu and choose “All Photos” or any other category.

All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in purchasing one as a print, or to use in a print or internet publication.


Things I Found in the Woods, 2012

fern frond in the woods

A delicate fern frond reaches for the sun from last year's dried stems.

Every year the winter opens up to a few days of warm intoxicating sun and mud in January and often in February, and I’ve run outside to celebrate the day. This year it was February 5, two days after Cookie died, and as I enjoyed the warm day and remembered this poem, I knew exactly what I wanted to create as a dedication to my faithful heart cat, my best friend.

I originally wrote this poem in 2006, for Moses as I knew her body was failing and she had little time left, and originally wrote this post in February 2011. What I wrote last year about this time of year is still how I feel today, so I won’t change it, but bear in mind that its references are a year old.

And I have a link to the poem with slideshow at the end of the article along with a few notes about creating it. I have some things to learn about this, but I think I’m going to enjoy reading my poems this way, and I’m glad I could do this for Cookie.

FEBRUARY 2011—I ran out for a happy two-hour sojourn as far as I could go on the trail and into the woods to see the brilliant swatches of green here and there, the stream rushing along, birds flying crazily overhead and singing in one big chorus.

rushing stream

The water still cold but running free.

I took off my shoes and ran through the mud in my bare feet, stepping into the freezing, rushing water of the stream, climbing hills and rock faces and photographing with my camera and my mind’s eye and all my senses the exhilaration of this day, coming back with muddy feet, wild hair filled with leaves and twigs, scratches on my arms and lots of images and inspiration.

It’s a traditional respite from a frozen winter, a “spring thaw”, too early to be permanent but enough to reawaken our senses and begin stirring the life forces in all of nature.

The full moon in February is often called the “Hunger Moon”; though people have managed through the deepest extended cold of winter, their food stores put by at the previous autumn’s harvest may be near gone and a frozen landscape still surrounds with not much nourishment in sight until the first edible greens begin to sprout in March or later in far north regions. People and animals who’d made it this far would often perish if spring was too long in coming.

moss on log

Mosses leaf out and bloom.

But beneath the snow plants have been gathering energy, seeds are swelling, roots are spreading, and above the snow the days are growing longer. Just two warm days in January or February are long enough to melt the snowcover and pour it into streams, soften the top layer of loam in the woods and everything that has life will spring to life, even if only temporarily, insects hatching, mosses blooming, ferns sending spores into the wind, living just long enough to reproduce, though the parents themselves may not survive.

These in turn provide a burst of food and fresh water for birds and animals to rejuvenate and energize and prepare for the effort of the months ahead, giving birth and raising their young.

I’ve always found the spring thaw, whenever it comes, to be a magical time, a gift from our compassionate mother in nature, perhaps, the world so full of life and energy that tired souls weary of the struggle of daily existence in a harsh frozen world will be reminded of better days to come. It is a moment outside of normal chronological time that we can find peace in a chapter of hardship, difficulty or sadness.

Brilliant Memories

This day also reminded me of a similar spring thaw five years ago when I knew that my Moses was letting go. I hadn’t lost a cat in quite some time and was frightened at the prospect, though she was calm and accepting. I just happened to be in the woods for a photo assignment the day I realized Moses’ condition, and as the air was full of life around me I decided to take some time in the woods after the assignment.

It was that loving respite from my fear and worry, the life and energy around me, that filled my heart with the understanding and acceptance I needed to help Moses through her last time, and, as it turned out, four others within the next 18 months; it would not end there.

cat in garden

Moses in her garden

But now all my losses have become one and are no longer losses, not a big chasm of dark sadness but a bright collective of memories of all their lives mingled with mine in the same way I remember the turns of the seasons. Their losses are not separate from me and my life, but their lives are a permanent part of who I am and the cats I live with today as I remember being in the garden with Moses, the day I first saw Stanley with ice crystals collecting on his fur, the way the furniture was arranged when I moved in here and everyone collected on the table by the door when I left in the morning, watching Mimi outside and deciding she should come to live with me.

Their lives are not a part of my past, but of my present; just as the earth holds the memories of all that’s past and turns it into new life, so do I.

We are resilient; even after the harshest treatment has forced us to retreat and protect ourselves, we are ready again for the fullness of life when encouraging conditions return.

The Poem

I wrote the first six verses of this poem sitting on a moss and lichen-covered rock in the woods that day I realized my life was about to change with Moses’ imminent transition, then the last verse during her last few days though I was never happy with it. This year I found the words that were, well, right, for Moses and Cookie and all others and realize the poem is not about loss, but about letting go of anything you love.

Dedicated to Moses, the most gentle, loving being I have ever encountered.

Things I Found in the Woods

Tiny rivulets of water released from thawing soil
flowing beneath last year’s debris, trickling and gurgling all around
hurrying down hillsides before the freeze returns.

A cup-shaped fungus holding a tablespoon of snowmelt
for a song sparrow to sip, practicing its vernal melody
for the time when spring arrives in earnest.

Ferns, newly-green, draped on cliffs,
fluttering like garlands in the mild, caressing breeze
gathering a little nourishment to last the rest of the winter.

Fallen trees blanketed with bright green moss,
thick and lush already in the brief January thaw
filling a span of life in but a few days.

Four young white-tailed deer, capricious as the gusts,
feeling the flush of their first spring as adults
cavorting as if winter might not return tomorrow.

An understanding that life and love are cycles,
and that the moment must be taken for what it offers
even if what it offers is not what we expect.

The strength and courage to show as much dignity as you,
and to walk this last precious part of your path with you
and when I can walk no more beside you
to let you go.

I had never before experienced the spring thaw in such wonderment at the transience of life—still winter but everything that lived was taking advantage of the moment.

So was Moses. So should I.

So I resolved just to let her follow her course and she would let me know what to do.

two cats on a pillow

On a Rainy Afternoon, Cookie and Mimi

I have kept this lesson in my heart with each of the older kitties I’ve loved since. I don’t care what’s coming for us. I love them right now, this moment.

Ten years ago I lived with a largely different group of nine cats, only Cookie and Kelly still with me from those days. Ten years from now the group will be similarly changed. But each of them from before this time and the years to come is forever a part of my life.

I knew last year at this time that Cookie and I likely wouldn’t have much more time, and here we are a year later, two weeks after she has passed. I love this photo of her and Mimi especially, and all the others of her I’ve shared and will continue to share. I took this message to heart last year and I’m glad that Cookie and I had a final year to say a long goodbye, and that I could share her with all of you.

Listen to the Poem

I have always enjoyed reading my poetry to others, and have wanted to try a little multi-media project including a slideshow of photos with narration. I am glad to create this first one for Cookie, who spent many long days and nights over 19 years staying by my side as I found my creative life.

There are no photos of Cookie or any other cats in this; though I wrote it for Moses and dedicate this project to Cookie, it is what I found I feel about love, loss, and letting go. I was led to this knowledge, of course, by my cats. Thank you kitties, as always, for showing me the way.

It’s also not timed quite right as some of the groups of images are shorter or longer than the stanza. Some of the photos I included at the end are from significant moments, for instance, the asters on Cookie’s picnic table bench from a morning Cookie and I were in the yard last October, the “Wolf Moon” in the bare tree and the sunset with the evening stars references to my mother who also passed last year at this time. Coordinating, more or less, with the second verse, the forsythia with the tiny song sparrow in the middle of it is actually from the morning of February 2 as I held Cookie on my lap and knew her process of dying had begun; it was the day of transition from winter to spring and all the birds were singing their spring songs, and a song sparrow landed very near to us and sang for a while.

I could have gotten a better microphone too, but I will stop explaining and making excuses, and I hope you enjoy it. Watch the video below or click here to see the video on YouTube, “Things I Found in the Woods”.

Also read and listen to “Pawprints and Raindrops”.

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All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in purchasing one as a print, or to use in a print or internet publication.