Amy Ropple - Make Art!
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October 27, 2018

10/27/2018

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In the old days, kittens just seemed to show up in people's lives. They were not bought at stores or shelters. Someone had a box of them on the corner and they just dispersed into the community like a loving sneeze. It wasn't such a big deal. I am thrilled that cats are spayed and neutered now, making this scenario a memory. But...

I think back to the early nineties when a colleague told me one of her students' cat had kittens in Dorchester. "Want one? They are orange." That is all I needed to hear, and on a cool October afternoon we ventured to this student's house. We found a mostly white mama nursing four beautiful orange babies, and had about two minutes to pick one out. I looked in each little set of eyes, and settled on one who looked back. My friend did to. We put them in a box and left, pulling over to get flea powder at the first pet store we saw. We held the kitties up in the air and tried to delouse them by the side of the road, then cuddled them all the way home. My friend's cat became Moses, who used to sit in the trash barrell and poop in her plants. Ew. My little kitten became Boo Boo, my best friend and soul mate. I know I will never ever have a friend, feline or otherwise, that was like that. Still...

Since Boo's passing every October I get a hankering for that experience...stumbling across the kitten that is The One. The Best Friend. The Mysterious Feline Partner in Crime.  I've tried twice and have lovely cats, Theo and Seama, but they are no Boo. Was it the time I got him? My life circumstance? Was it him? I do acknowledge that raising a kitten in a house with dogs and parrots is not as calm as raising one in an apartment with only another cat and a resentful husband, but wonder...is that special four pawed pal out there somewhere, waiting to sleep on my pillow? Boo Boo slept with his big bear paws wrapped around my neck almost every night for 14 years. Can't tell you how I miss that. Seamus deposits his butt in my face on my chest every night. Not quite the same thing.

Alas, I know in my heart of hearts that bringing a kitten home now would throw off the rhythm of my home and it's members, and probably cause an outbreak of feline gang warfare that could go on indefinitely. I know I don't want that. I console myself with many kitten videos on Facebook and get lost in the tiny feet, tiny faces, innocent eyes, and bulging bellies. Oh, the bellies. 

I can hope that my PAWS friend will get baby kittens soon that I can play with. At worst I will scratch the baby kitten itch. At best, maybe, just maybe, I will see Boo potential in one kitten's eyes? Or maybe I will be driving down the road someday and see a person with a box of kittens...then I will know it is time. Until then, forcing the issue by actually visiting a shelter seems wrong. Oh, Boo, you were a one in a million cat and I think you broke the mold. Why do I keep looking? Because kittens and cats and birds and dogs are life, and make me happy. That's why. Peace out, cat lovers! ​
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October 2, 2018

10/2/2018

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I will admit it, I went to bed at about 6:30 last night. Just to lay down for a bit. Awoke at 11:30 like someone hit in the head with a frying pan in a cartoon. Put the confused birds to bed, and returned to my puppies and blankets. And actually slept. Haven't slept a full night in days due to RA discomfort, and knew this was coming. Well, forget the euphemism. Not just discomfort, actual pain. The bad kind in the toes that wakes you from a sound sleep and reminds you that the clock is ticking on your joints and mobility. 

But there is so much art to do! 

Sometimes battling the fatigue associated with an RA flare is winnable -- but often the internal batteries are so drained you know that the 3% that is left won't be enough to do anything of measure, so it's best not to fight. Sleep helps, and is an escape from soreness. I feel very much like a cell phone that needs charging. When on the last bar of energy, I better not try to take too many photos or I will completely shut down. 

Last week I pushed my luck on a Monday night and worked on a new art piece that I am excited about for an extra hour or so, landing in bed around 9:45. I paid for it all week, as during Flare Times one isn't allowed to do anything, it seems. So discouraging. Seems like a massive exaggeration and whine-fest, but it really isn't either. Just stating the facts, ma'am. It feels like a cruel joke -- I finally have all the materials. tools, and most important the IDEAS for artwork -- but have the physical stamina of a sloth to get things done. I know many people have it much, much worse and can accomplish more than I do, and it frustrates me.  

Doctor offers more steroids, which are not a good solution, or more of the biologic medication I take at the next infusion, which I will try. She said if I were her patient at the beginning of her practice I would be in my current condition within a few years, so that is a consolation, I suppose. She asked "So you want to stay working?" Ummm. Gee, let me think about it. YES! Who knows. All I know is I am grateful for my ice packs and have an addiction to ice water as my temp seems to be running high these days, too.  And this too will pass! 

The new piece I am working in has a base of almost all digital fabrics. I scanned gelli prints and played with them in Photopaint, and printed out sheets to use for piecing. Finally really yellow fabric! I also printed a bunch of dreamy photos from this summer's one beach excursion when the sunset was doing amazing things. Some edited, some not. It is a whole new way to feel and work. And there is a big seagull.

New color palette, using ideas that mean something to me, and I am inspired to stay up and fight the good fight to get it going. What more can one ask for? I am in love with the printer and being able to make the cloth I want to use. Game changer. I go to Joann Fabrics and no longer am limited to what they have at hand. To make the jump from screen to cloth at home is truly inspiring. C'mon RA, give me a break so I can do this!! Gripe over. Be well everyone and stay up late if you can pull it off. The alternative is not that great! 
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    Amy Ropple is an artist and art educator who believes engaging in visual art can make life happier and more meaningful.  This blog is a daily journal of creative habits and interests, as well as reflections on living with chronic autoimmune disease. Website: http://amyropple.com

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