Most days I wake up a little before noon, feed Whiskey, and open the door so she can make her grand entrance downstairs to inspect her kingdom. I sometimes wonder if feeding her later in the day is throwing off her sleep schedule because she often seems tired during daylight hours. Then again, she’s a cat. If there were a PhD in napping, she’d be teaching it.
I know when she’s hungry because I hear her calling from the other room. Interestingly, she doesn’t come into my room and meow for breakfast. No, Whiskey prefers a more direct communication style. She comes in quietly… and bites me. Message received.
Today Mom and I headed to the Whittier Art Gallery to arrange another show this July. There was a little confusion. Because the gallery will be closed for Independence Day, I’ll lose a day from my usual exhibition time, and unfortunately that day falls on a Saturday. I paid the regular fee but asked the representative to look into a possible discount for the lost day. The art world, like most event planning, sometimes feels like a maze drawn by a committee.
And confusion seems to be the theme lately. WonderCon hasn’t shipped my badges. I still need to get books to Vroman's Bookstore to finalize that event. The details for the LA Times Festival of Books are still swirling around like loose papers in the wind. HalfOff books may not have any books of mine if I somehow sell them all at earlier events. When you’re building an art life, logistics can feel like a second full-time job.
But here’s the important part.
I’m not smoking.
Not only that, I’m not really thinking about it.
Instead, I’m pulling out the art supplies and painting again. The energy that used to drift toward cigarettes is finding a new home in color, brushstrokes, and fresh watercolors. There’s something powerful about replacing a habit instead of just removing it. The hands want something to do. Now they’re creating instead of burning.
Of course, painting with a kitten in the house requires a little vigilance. Whiskey watches every move like a tiny art critic, and if I’m not careful, she’ll dip her paws into the paint and collaborate. Her style leans heavily toward abstract chaos.
Between art therapy and pet therapy, the day feels balanced. Grounded. Productive.
And once again, I’ve got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
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This is brilliantly written. As usual your prose is simply elegant. You have a talent Dan Joyce. I’m proud that you aren’t smoking. You CAN DO THIS. Remember, “With God nothing is impossible”
With Love and Friendship,
Your BBPFF,
Karen ❤️