This image pretty much sums up how I’m feeling these days:
Smashed Kitteh, Found Curbside On George Street One Early Spring Morning (mixed media, 2010, artist unknown)
I don’t whether it’s the shattered glass, the intimations of alcohol dependency, the desecrative wad of gum stuck to the frame, or the fact that someone had a framed picture of a kitten in a highball glass that somehow got smashed and then dispatched to the curbside to be collected as trash that makes this image so, I don’t know, sad, but the details are, I think, beside the point. I am neither a kitten nor alcohol dependent, nor do I have a wad of gum stuck to any part of me, but I can still identify with the feelings of misplacedness, of lostness, of existential confusion, and these are the feelings with which I imagine that kitten – stuffed in a highball glass and left alone at the curb – is struggling, if that kitten had feelings, which it doesn’t, because that poster is almost certainly circa 80’s, which means that that kitten is dead.
Tuesday is shaping up to be a really cheerful day.
(I’m okay, just feeling kind of dark. Existential confusion can do that to you.)
(Am maybe going to crawl back under the covers. With a cupcake. And a Siamese cat. A live one.)