Cats have often been the preferred companions of writers, from Hemingway to Bukowski. But how do they relate to artists? New Zealand based painter Rosielea imagines how one of her two feline friends, Poppy, would write about their days spent in her tiny studio, their walks around town and her interaction with the other studio dwellers, fellow cat and frenemy Picallo and Eric the cross-dressing skeleton.
'A day in the life of … ' She said.
As if each day was neatly organised, practically the same and always utterly predictable (this is how it should be, but it isn’t. Pfffft)
Let me introduce myself. I am ‘Poppy Longstockings’, a thoroughly well- bred and regal Seal Point Ragdoll who due to a reverse of fortune ended up in a place well below her station. However, things could be much worse and so I bear my sorry fate as best I can.
We live in a very small apartment (30 squares! thank god for cat balconies) which also doubles as an art studio.
The ‘we’ I am referring to would be myself, The Human, and the one The Human calls, ‘Picallo Picasso’. I call him ‘He who never shuts up except when he is asleep’. Look at him here, he has just woken up...
Picallo is nothing but an irreverent hooligan. He not only travels around on the shoulders of The Human, but he will often sleep there as well. So undignified.
The Human is not one without blame either. The Human encourages this shameful behaviour!
The day begins with The Human disengaging herself from the hooligan to make coffee, and to throw a bit of raw meat our way. The Human usually warms it up first, but if the hooligan is yowling (does he ever shut up), The Human doesn’t even do that.
A couple of cold plops into our respective bowls is all we get and on she goes to make the disgusting 'coffee stuff'. How I hate the smell. The Human loves it though, and makes ‘oooo, arrrrr’ noises, not even caring that our meat is cold. Nooooooo, she doesn’t even think about that.
Picallo helps in the studio sometimes, as do I insofar as it amuses me.
Last year, The Human also brought to live with us a very strange creature who she calls 'Eric'.
Eric does not say much but likes wearing odd clothes and often claims credit for The Human's artwork.
Eric is very smug about it all.
Even thinks s(he) is Father Christmas sometimes...
On the days The Human plans to paint at home, we get to go out for a walk to have a break. It’s one of my favourite things.
The Human says she would rather lead six horses than two cats at the same time though, so we have to take it in turns. It’s one of the rare times I get some peace from ‘He who never shuts up unless he’s asleep'.
'He who never sleeps' is shy of other Humans, and prefers to wait in the buggy. Yes, we have a buggy.
Sitting down for a coffee after I walk is one of The Human’s favourite things.
I must admit, I quite like all the attention I get at the shops.
Sometimes there is packing of paintings to do, and of course, we help with that as well – The Human really couldn’t survive or get anything right if it wasn’t t for me pointing out all the things she does wrong by getting in her way and making her pay attention to things.
Humans! I feel sorry for them, really I do.
And here he is again, so pathetic, he just sticks like glue to the the Human …..
And sometimes …. Well, we all just ‘kitten pile’ it.
“Cats tell me without effort all that there is to know.” ― Charles Bukowski, On Cats