Monday, Sept. 09, 2002 - 10:45 a.m.

A very dear and wonderful friend of mine is an artist, to every extent of the word. An artist in every way I wished I could be. I have a small painting and two urns she's made for me. Beautiful, surreal... She made them from love, at least I hope they were, but I am not her muse. Her muse up and flew away, and she is trying so hard to find another. I requested this last urn she made me. Another friend gave me a gift with small intricate bead work on it. I ripped the beads off and gave then to my artist friend, requesting something, anything, that involved (surrounded) this set of tiny beads. I finally received it. She finally found her artistry again. I don't think she can fathom how special these three small pieces of art are to me. They are so unique, if anyone asked what they were, it would take days to explain, and even then I couldn't do it properly.

"You'd have to know her to understand that piece."

My favorite is the one with the cat shaped like a human female, very little detail, no face... big ears. and paw prints she made with the tips of her fingers... I can see her nails. It will be a true urn, you see, I plan on cremating my cat when he passes, and putting his ashes in there. I had always planned on doing that, (when he turned 10 the idea came to me) but I never knew what I would put him in.

I am definitely that "weird cat lady" So what!

When she gave me the cat urn, I started to cry... she didn't understand. She just asked "What's wrong?" I told her my plans... that Sebastian would be placed there, after he was cremated. That it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever made for me, and it was only fitting that this be the urn I place Sebastian in. I still don't think she understands... Most people don't... I don't tell them the extent of Sebastian's place in my life. The weight of sorrow and guilt he holds on his furry little shoulders.

Most people don't understand, and I've stopped trying to explain...