I got my shiny new Moo business cards. Squeeeeeeeeee! Some have crystals on the back. Some have jewelry. Some have me. You never know what you’re going to get. I’m an artist. You wouldn’t expect boring cards would you? heee


Gree was my special girl. She was the light black sisfur of the House of the Mostly Black Cats. She was Mrs. Othello, Greebie, @GreetheCat. She was the kitty who slept with me at night. She had a chirp she made when she was excited about something and could purr loud as can be. She wouldn’t take anything off anybody. She liked Temptations and Party Mix but was not a huge fan of Greenies.  She adored yogurt. When she and Pepi still lived outside and were technically the neighbors cats, she came running when she heard me or my mother. She helped Pepi hunt. She loved scritches on the right side of her neck; the left side made her licky licky like she was grooming. She had beautiful black eyeliner. Her nose was pink and grey to go with her pink and grey pawpads. She had little petite ears but a buddah belly that never kept her from keeping her white  stockings clean.
She hurt her back years ago, we don’t know how. So she had pain meds that I gave her on and off, and when she was so sick near the end I had to give her prednisolone. She only bit me once in all those years and that was when I had my thumb stuck between her teeth. I’m not sure you could consider that a real bite. Gree was terrified of thunder and the vacuum cleaner and fled to the safety of under the bed, though she wasn’t as bad about them as the years went on. Gree was scared of things; I tried to help her feel safe, and I like to think I succeeded in some measure.

Gree liked “canned food soup” better than just the canned cat food. She would let me massage her rear paws, but I could only brush my fingers over her front paws. She kept me company in my office / studio. She sat in my lap. When she started feeling sick, she slept snuggled close to me in bed. Gree was my sweetheart. I miss her.

House of the Mostly Black Cats

Everyone deals with grief in their own way. Aside from crying and braying like a dying donkey, I make art. It helps bring me out of myself and is a balm for frayed nerves and sadness. In my attempt to deal with my grief over Gree’s passing, I found a new idea for my healing silhouette art: cats and trees. Maybe cats without trees later. We shall see.

Thank you, Gree. For the cats and trees. And mostly for all the years of company.

Added 4/26/16 from Facebook: Clarisse Harton Her Grandma misses her too! She was always afraid of the vacuum cleaner. When I went to vacuum Saturday, I stopped and decided not to in remembrance of Miss Greebie.


“There is no point in my day when I am not an artist. I may not be sitting at the work bench making jewelry or painting at the moment. I am, however, thinking, growing creativity, looking at the world differently. For me, being an artist is like being female, just something I am.”
Art Everywhere

Originally posted on Facebook.