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Bobina doesn't get paper cuts, or eat too many raisins (or any raisins at all), and she does not count the years or minutes or steps. She looks cute always, and never deletes later.

And when the stuk-stuk-stuk of men putting in a new roof for the neighbors annoys her, she goes to sleep.

When she's seen the wet fat snowflakes cover up last night's rabbit tracks, she goes to sleep.

When her humans won't get up with the sun, she goes to sleep, on top of them.

Between first breakfast and second, after dinner and after midnight snack, she sleeps.

But when she's awake, she's a thousand percent awake.

I turned forty-one yesterday. This year I want to be more cat than human. I want to be soft, and sure of myself, and also slippery, impossible to pin down, corner, box. Free, without running away.

I make Divinity School from scratch without AI. The writing and the photos here are all my work, always. Thank you for reading, please share near and far!

I'll be writing at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts (VCCA) starting February 9 through March 10.

This week I bought two Decomposition spiral notebooks, and treated myself to a new colorful warm but lightweight blanket to take with me. I'm packing warm hoodies and socks, cozy pants, comfortable boots for long walks, books and art prints for inspiration. Of course I'll need a stash of marshmallows and chocolate – my new favorite vice, Cadbury Rock the Road, combines both – but I'll buy those last. Will need a lockbox for the sugar, and my phone XO