Sunday, December 19, 2010

The Sick Kitten (1903)

Étienne-Jules Marey / Falling Cat, 1890

© Despina Paramani

Self-portrait

Τσαρλς Μπουκόβσκι | Ο καπετάνιος έχει κόψει αλυσίδα και το πλοίο είναι στα χέρια των ναυτών

...Οι θεοί ανακατεύουν την τράπουλα. Ο χρόνος είναι σακατεμένος κι εσύ ένας ηλίθιος. Ο χρόνος όμως είναι φτιαγμένος για να σπαταλιέται. Τι θα κάνεις γι' αυτό; Δεν γίνεται να φορτσάρεις συνεχώς. Σταματάς και συνεχίζεις. Πιάνεις κορυφή και μετά πέφτεις στο μαύρο σκοτάδι. Έχεις γάτα; Ή γάτες; Κοιμούνται δικέ μου. Μπορούν και κοιμούνται για 20 ώρες τη μέρα και δείχνουν υπέροχες. Γνωρίζουν πως δεν υπάρχει λόγος να αγχώνεσαι για τίποτα. Το επόμενο γεύμα. Και κάτι τις να απασχολείσαι μια στο τόσο. 'Οταν βασανίζομαι, απλά κοιτάζω μία ή περισσότερες από τις γάτες μου. Απλά παρατητώ μια τους να κοιμάται ή να χουζουρεύει και χαλαρώνω. Η γραφή είναι μια γάτα μου επίσης. Η γραφή μου επιτρέπει να διακρίνω την αλήθεια. Με χαλαρώνει. Για λίγο τέλος πάντων. Ύστερα τα νεύρα μου γινονται πάλι κορδόνια και πρέπει να αρχίσω ξανά από την αρχή. Δεν μπορώ να καταλάβω τους συγγραφείς που παίρνουν την απόφαση να πάψουν να γράφουν. Πώς χαλαρώνουν;

Μετάφραση: Γιάννης Λειβαδάς

Self-portrait with Harry

© Despina Paramani

Self-portrait with Maya

© Despina Paramani

President Mao


Thanks to Ritsa Masoura
Dedicated to the Memory of Antonis Karkagiannis
who was  a communist & a great cat lover! 
 

 

President Mao in the Fields | Qiu Jie: 2006


Thans to Ritsa Masoura & Poly Hatjimanolaki


Paul Gray

"Cats were put into the world to disprove the dogma that all things were created to serve man."

President Mao | Qiu Jie: 2007


Thanks to Ritsa Masoura & Poly Hatjimanolaki


© Brassai

via L'aquaboniste

© Brassai


via L'aquoiboniste 
Thanks to

Louis Camuti

"There is something about the presence of a cat... that seems to take the bite out of being alone."

Woman with Cat | Fernando Botero

The Naming Of Cats | T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

Frida Kahlo | Self Portrait

Frida Kahlo with monkey, colibri and a Cat

© Tony Mendoza | Ernie





































Louis Camuti

"Cat people are different, to the extent that they generally are not conformists. How could they be, with a cat running their lives?"

Salvador Dali & Cats




This relatively famous photograph of Dali was a collaboration
between himself and artist Philippe Halsman.
It’s part of a series of photographs called “Dalí Atomica”
inspired by Dali’s own painting Leda Atomica.


The Black Cat | Edgar Allan Poe (3)

unknown

The Black Cat | Edgar Allan Poe (2)



Illustration for Edgar Allan Poe’s
"The Black Cat"
 by Aubrey Beardsley (1894–1895)



The Black Cat | Edgar Allan Poe

"The Black Cat" is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe. It was first published in the August 19, 1843, edition of The Saturday Evening Post. It is a study of the psychology of guilt, often paired in analysis with Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart"  In both, a murderer carefully conceals his crime and believes himself unassailable, but eventually breaks down and reveals himself, impelled by a nagging reminder of his guilt.
The story is presented as a first-person narrative using an unreliable narrator. The narrator tells us that from an early age he has loved animals. He and his wife have many pets, including a large black cat named Pluto. This cat is especially fond of the narrator and vice versa. Their mutual friendship lasts for several years, until the narrator becomes an alcoholic. One night, after coming home intoxicated, he believes the cat is avoiding him. When he tries to seize it, the panicked cat bites the narrator, and in a fit of rage, he seizes the animal, pulls a pen-knife from his pocket, and deliberately gouges out the cat's eye.

.....................................................

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Black_Cat_%28short_story%29

Ode to the Cat | Publo Neruda


The animals were imperfect,        
long-tailed,
unfortunate in their heads.           
Little by little they
put themselves together,
making themselves a landscape,
acquiring spots, grace, flight.
The cat,
only the cat                                                   
appeared complete and proud:
he was born completely finished,
walking alone and knowing what he wanted.

Man wants to be fish or fowl,
the snake would like to have wings
the dog is a disoriented lion,
the engineer would like to be a poet,
the fly studies to be a swift,
the poet tries to imitate the fly,
but the cat
only wants to be a cat
and any cat is a cat
from his whiskers to his tail,
from his hopeful vision of a rat
to the real thing,
from the night to his golden eyes.
.............................................

Portrait of a cat by Jean Cocteau

Le Chat | Charles Baudelaire

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

................................

For multiple English translations, go to: http://fleursdumal.org/poem/132
Sent by Sandra Krimba

Sigmund Freud

"Time spent with cats is never wasted"