I was little once, too, a long time ago,
VinnyGuinea: I had PandaPig and you had me.
But now you are growing up.
Grief changes me.
Ask mom.
It doesn't mean I love you any less.
It just means I go back to my solitude.
But I will sleep next to you where
our cages meet and I will share the
hay where our cages meet and
I will remember being small
where our cages meet
and I will smell your scent
where our cages meet
and I will never let you go
where our hearts meet
and became One, even
though I seem aloof, it
is just the grief changing
me, ask mom. Inside I love
you, VinnyGuinea...
where our cages meet.
YES, it's been a bit of rough sailing and Ingrid
and so many of our friends know...Ingrid sent the
sweetest card ever (Vinny added the flower border,
making him feel "artistic and big") because we
hit a few bumps in the road this week and
making cards of Calvin, MacNutPie,
and the piggies for the gallery tomorrow...
we just don't know whether it will happen.
Or whether we will even make the effort.
We want to and we don't want to.
~
Looking into this beautiful card, the bluebird
of happiness coming into such a lovely window;
harbinger that spring will come, it WILL!
~
thank you, friends, all!
As we are learning to say while in India reading
and writing friends on the newspaper there:
~LOVE INFINITE~
(((our hearts)))
PandaPig here reporting from the Rainbow Bridge
for the Very First Time. We think you'll understand
why in a few minutes. See, I was mom's first guinea
pig and together we created this Special Sanctuary
and I was the Official Greeter and companion of each
new resident, starting with YumYum, who never got over
losing me... These days, so many of us are all together
now doing the same loving, affectionate work for the new
ones for Here is neither grief nor sadness.
Although we have welcomed perhaps a few too
many piggies recently...and YumYum has slowed
down considerably since then, mom does worry for him.
~
Well, tomorrow is First Friday Art Walk and mom
hasn't been since maybe last year who knows when.
She's not going tomorrow night, either, but did want to
replenish her cards and take in some new work
so she dropped by and her best friend was there.
What was not there, not a one, were any cards of us!
Every single guinea pig card had been either sold or
donated to charity as the gallery recently asked interested
artists for work to benefit the Whatcom Land
Trust who protects what valuable resources remain here.
And mom IS INTERESTED IN THAT!
Which brings us to what mom needs to make for tomorrow:
Cards of us. Which made her very sad. Which made
her decide, also, to begin the "torn paper" series of shields
(the name of which I already forgot.) So, she came home and
started tearing lots of paper. And there were lots of scissors,
just in case. But, mainly the tearing. It's cathartic, tearing is.
Unfortunately, she-who-does-not-sew inexplicably owns a
pair of sewing shears, and somehow during the cathartic tearing-art ...although no one seems to have witnessed it since they got morning Runabouts instead of evening Runabouts...so they were napping...
See my hair?
WELL...mom cut hers, too! She felt that if she was creating
primitive, primal, earthy, aboriginal, indigenous art...she wanted
to become ONE WITH IT. (Please say your "OH MY GOD'S!" MORE QUIETLY AS WE CAN HEAR THEM ALL THE WAY OVER HERE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!)
Perhaps she shouldn't have been listening to Adele "21"
stomping about quite so loudly...either way...
(like our haircuts?)
That was a rhetorical question. She has plenty of hats.
I'm going home now as mom's waterworks have started again.
Would someone just please hide the scissors?
Life really is beautiful, no matter which side of the
Rainbow Bridge one is on, for Love exists Everywhere.
Yours Forever,
PandaPig
