The Memory of the King of Swords

My oldest cat followed me downstairs this morning, and I paused on a step to pat her head coming up behind me and said “Just you and me Betty, you and me in the morning.” Her name is Tosca, but her real name is Betty Plodgett. Thus spoke the Universe to me one day 14 years ago.

A good cat friend in the quietude of the morning is a great, great thing. I’m not sure if I’ll have cat friends after my two current friends die. It is getting too expensive and too emotionally difficult to deal with ageing and death in pets.

I heard a song on the radio, an old song from 1971 by the Guess Who with Burton Cummings singing exquisitely. It’s called Sour Suite, and the break in the middle keeps going through my mind:

But it’s too late now
It’s too late now
It’s too late now

Whatever happened to images, ’cause now they’re gone
And worn out phrases just keep a-hangin’ on
Whatever happened to homes as opposed to houses?
A conversation, sayings as the evening drowses
It’s just like four six two oh one
It’s just like four six two oh one






Oh my, the Sword family is coming to play this week. It’s the King of ideas and intellect, black horse rearing in the background, the air in a whirl, white birds flapping.

I am writing today. I have some creative ideas completed, and further artwork ideas for a review I am writing but rather than hold up the review, I’ll add them next year. The last review I wrote was for the Diary of a Broken Soul Tarot and I am so slow to create that it was held up for two years. This time I shall add to it, keep it alive with momentum.

Happy Sunday!






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