In this world

In this world
mixed media on canvas 30x26"
Megan Chapman 2006
private collection

Waking up to find the sunshine and my cat alive is a gift. The sunshine means he can sit in a pool of light and get warm - one of his favourite things that makes his fading life worth living.

The sun helps me with my anticipatory grief and the sadness of caring for my fading friend. If I were a witch as I surely would have been back in Scotland's dark days, Theo is my familiar. 

Since the last post, there was another vet visit. And this time opioids were prescribed and a 10-day course of antibiotics was administered in a single shot. So many times since then, I thought he was going but he thought differently. So here we are in the sunshine of today. 

Today

Today

Today

I know today is all we have.

It's been intense, awful and sad but today the sun is out and we are here. 

In between the hypervigilance, tears, naps, and friends and family checking on me - I am starting to think about art again little by little - the future. 

I am thankful for the blue skies, flowers, and the spring birds darting back and forth, my brilliant cat Theo, and you.

Obstacle 2

Return to me 
mixed media on canvas 30x26"
Megan Chapman 2006
private collection

Hello, there studio blog readers, 

Thank you to everyone who read last week's post. I appreciate hearing from you across my social media channels. Always good to get feedback, hear if something resonates, or just to see a friendly hello, a name and a face. 

Today I am up at dawn monitoring the breathing of my cat, feeling how small he has become and how soft and delicate. I turn the light on in the darkness to see how his eyes look and I plot my next course of action. He needs to eat - today is the day I open the forbidden small tin of food - to mix some in with his prescription that he only licks these days. He needs subcutaneous fluids too. And after the sub-Qs, he will get a bit of an equally forbidden lick-e-lix treat. We have played by all the rules for so long, we have done our very best, and now we are tired - we need a few rewards. 

Before warming the fluids and brandishing the needle, I tidy up the kitchen and let him linger by his water bowl unsuspecting. As he sits "turkey style" staring into nothing and everything, I look out the window watching the world wake up. I put things in order, walking quietly for some reason and yet moving with decisive action. It reminds me of the past. 

It reminds me of hearing the calling at 3am and rolling out of bed to float up the stairs to my attic studio to put on my headphones and get lost in music and paint. Dancing upstairs with Alizarin Crimson, Orange Oxide, Gold, and Phalo Blue...  

"I'm gonna pull you in close

I'm gonna wrap you up tight

I'm gonna play with the braids that you came here with tonight..."

(I am back there now - dancing in the attic to Interpol - walking and working in dream time, painting for you and you and you and I am still in my 30s and it seems like all the doors are still open). 

And then the track changes and I am back sitting here at the table. My sick cat is resting, tears are close to my eyes and I am 51 living in Edinburgh, Scotland. I have closed a lot of the doors and I have had more than a few closed on me...

And I am sitting with all this space and I envision doing something out of the ordinary - you know like painting or drawing... How did this happen?