Recreation Room Pussy Club

I've decided to create my room into a 'recreation room' paradise for me and Stinko:

TV = check
Mood lighting = check (sort of). A lava lamp or similar wouldn't go amiss however.

Things I need:

Bean Bag for me, Bean Bag for Scratchy/Stinky
Mini Fridge
Kettle
To be hooked up to all TV features that are available in the living room
Small Cat toilet for Stink
Selection of toys for Stinky to bat about in a playful manner
Assortment of treats and snacks for myself and pussy

It will be nice to have lazy, rainy weekend days, sitting on the beanbag with Fleabag, watching mindless TV or Twin Peaks or whatever, warm and safe, in the glow of my own safe suburban home. Now to me that is paradise.

The Search for 'Stinky'

Yesterday I adopted a cat, called Scamp. I'm not fond on the name, but Scampi sounds better. Nicknames can include Stinky, Stinko and Pongo. 

He's about 1 year old. Which means for me I will hopefully have him for a long long time, so a long life time best friend.

He is very affectionate. When he's warmed more to us, I feel he'll be on par with Teddy on the Love Level. Lappy and Purry.

We rescued him from Team Cat Rescue. The ladies Lynne and Sheila were very cool and nice. Sheila said I should volunteer, as I have cat whispering qualities. I will do it, after Scampi has properly settled. I wanted to volunteer with cats. And blind people. And blind cats.

Well, it's time for me to nap. My dreams have been unusual and disturbing lately. Last night, in my dream, my right artery had somehow had been severed. I didn't realise for ages, but when I looked down, my clothing had absorbed a huge amount of blood, and it was profusely bleeding. All I was worried about was that people would assume I'd injected myself. Let's hope to better more logical dreams.

Life imitates Art

I have nothing to say at this present moment in time. 

I am exhausted and stupid.

I am licking wounds and learning lessons.

I saw my Granny today, it was lovely.

I know where happiness is. 

I know where it isn't.

Love.

Daily Nightly

I just finished the tedious task of sorting through all my photos on my laptop, and I've realised 2 things: I need to stop shooting loads of the same thing just because I'm bored and when I do shoot loads and upload pictures, to sort them straight away. I deleted about 3500 photos of just complete shit.

But here are some nice features I found on the way:

More Boys (Addicted), Birmingham, 2013

Phil, Birmingham, 2013

The only girl, Birmingham, 2013

Tim smoking by window, Birmingham, 2013

Bedroom, Birmingham, 2013

The Men of the House, Birmingham, 2013

Parlour Games, Birmingham, 2013

Watercolour, writing, unaffected

Reading back over the years really made me cringe, so I've made the whiny and melodramatic posts back to draft mode. Can't believe people used to say I was a good writer. It was so awful and depressing. At least I know I'm a lot happier now, and that I don't ever want to have a relationship!

Since my parents have gone I've turned the downstairs into an art studio. I found myself taking time with mixing colours and using different consistencies to get different effects with water colour. I also found myself not following any method or having any idea of what exactly I wanted to create, just to let feeling flow through me. I'd like to try on a bigger scale and include words and layered meanings. I sometimes thing the sunflower might be too difficult or won't look as good as I am imagining; perhaps not having a plan is the best way to me.

I've started on the treatment of 'The House if 1000 Bongs'. It really is quite a good start as all sorts of things are coming back to me.

I shine light in

There was a little drawing of a heart, next to that followed by an exclamation mark. The back of his was covered in stuff, stuff like Brandon is not a very nice guy but Alex is sooo nice, and that had the exclamation thing too. It was just silly crap, but it hit the spot... and he let himself be drawn in.