Saturday, April 30, 2011

Umberto Saba | The Cat

Your little cat' gotten skinny.
It's only troyble is love.
Trouble your own devotion inspires.

Don't  you feel her anxious tenderness?
Don't you hear her purr like a heart
Under your heart?
To my eyes she's perfect
Like you, your savage cat,
but like you a girl
And a lover who's always hunting,
Restlessly roaming here and there,

About whomever says, "she's crazy".

She's a girl like you.

by Yasmine Surovec | Cat vs Human

Vance Packard

"The cat lets Man support her. But unlike the dog, she is no handlicker. Furthermore, unlike Man's other great good friend the horse, the cat is no sweating serf of Man. The only labor she condescends to perform is to catch mice and rats, and that's fuan."

Gli Occhi del Gatto - Moebius-Jodorowsky

Κ. Π. Καβάφης | Σπίτι με Kήπον Κρυμμένα


Ήθελα να ’χω ένα σπίτι εξοχικό
μ’ έναν πολύ μεγάλο κήπο— όχι τόσο
για τα λουλούδια, για τα δένδρα, και τες πρασινάδες
(βέβαια να βρίσκονται κι αυτά· είν’ ευμορφότατα)
αλλά για να ’χω ζώα. A να ’χω ζώα!
Τουλάχιστον επτά γάτες— οι δυο κατάμαυρες,
και δυο σαν χιόνι κάτασπρες, για την αντίθεσι.
Έναν σπουδαίο παπαγάλο, να τον αγρικώ
να λέγει πράγματα μ’ έμφασι και πεποίθησιν.
Aπό σκυλιά, πιστεύω τρία θα μ’ έφθαναν.
Θα ’θελα και δυο άλογα (καλά είναι τ’ αλογάκια).
Κι εξ άπαντος τρία, τέσσαρα απ’ τ’ αξιόλογα,
τα συμπαθητικά εκείνα ζώα, τα γαϊδούρια,
να κάθονται οκνά, να χαίροντ’ οι κεφάλες των.

(Από τα Κρυμμένα Ποιήματα 1877;-1923, Ίκαρος 1993)

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Colette | The Cat

As soon as he turned out the light, the cat began to trample delicately on her friend's chest. Each time she pressed down her feet, one single claw pierced the silk of the pyjamas, catching the skin just enough for Alain to feel an uneasy pleasure.

"Seven more days, Saha", he sighed.

In seven days and seven nights he would begin a new life in new surroundings with an amorous and untamed young woman. He stroked the cat's fur, warm and cool at the same time and smelling of clipped box, thuya and lush grass. She was purring full-throatedly and, in the darkness, she gave him a cat's kiss, laying her damp nose for a second under Alain's nose between his nostrils and his lip. A swift, immaterial kiss which she rarely accorded him.

A Cat Named Groucho

























Recently auctioned on eBay was this newspaper clipping which Zeppo sent to Groucho in 1975, along with a note that read, "Groucho, thought this cute, will try to come see you next week. Love, Zeppo."

The caption reads:
All that's missing is the cigar to make Groucho, this mustachioed cat, look just like his famous namesake. Groucho, who's half Siamese, has two other unusual features: his hind legs are twice as long as his front ones, and he has no tail. Groucho, owned by the Morris Gilbert family of Brownwood, Tex., won a blue ribbon at the Brown County pet fair last fall after judges chose him the most unusual cat displayed.
The seller made this statement in the listing:
I was Groucho's personal secretary and archivist for the last three years of his life, and am the author of the book RAISED EYEBROWS: My Years Inside Groucho's House. Groucho received this item from Zeppo in July of 1975. He did, in fact, get a kick out of the cat photo (Groucho had a weakness for kitties to begin with), but rather than saving the note and photo and putting it into a scrapbook, he simply tossed it into the waste basket under his desk. (After all, Groucho would hardly have looked upon a note from Zeppo Marx as a rare and desirable collectible!) So - I retrieved the note, envelope, and clipping from the trash and saved it for whatever passes as posterity.
That would be Steve Stollar, who authored Raised Eyebrows.

The clipping, note, and envelope went for $299 to the only individual who placed a bid.

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

Reblogged from The Marx Brothers

Rocker Cat

The Franz Ferdinand Cat

Monday, April 25, 2011

William S. Burroughs – “Last Words: 7/30/97″

“There is no final enough of wisdom, experience- any fucking thing. No Holy Grail, No Final Satori, no solution. Just conflict.
Only thing that can resolve conflict is love, like I felt for Fletch and Ruski, Spooner, and Calico. Pure love. What I feel for my cats past and present.
Love? What is it?
Most natural painkiller what there is.
LOVE.”

© Machiel Botman


© Marco Vernaschi


© Adam Jeppesen


Sunday, April 24, 2011

Egyptian Cat | from Diodorus Siculus

"Whoever kills a cat in Egypt is condemmed to death, whether he committed this crime deliberately or not. The people gather and kill him. An unfortunate Roman, who had accidentally killed a cat, could not be saved, either by King Ptolemy of Egypt or by the fear which Rome inspired."

Bast | the Egyptian Goddess of cats, women and children

In Egyptian mythology, Bast (also spelled Ubasti, Baset, and later Bastet) is an ancient solar and war goddess, worshipped at least since the Second Dynasty. In the late dynasties, the priests of Amun began to call her Bastet, a repetitive and diminutive form after her role in the pantheon became diminished as Sekhmet, a similar lioness war deity, became more dominant in the unified culture of Lower and Upper Egypt. In the Middle Kingdom, the cat appeared as Bastet's sacred animal and after the New Kingdom she was depicted with a woman with a cat's head carrying a sacred rattle and a box or basket.

Bast or Bastet was the cat goddess and local deity of the town of Bubastis or Per-Bast in Egyptian, where her cult was centered. Bubastis was named after her. Originally she was viewed as the protector goddess of Lower Egypt, and consequently depicted as a fierce lioness. Indeed, her name means (female) devourer. As protector, she was seen as defender of the pharaoh, and consequently of the later chief male deity, Ra, who was a solar deity also, gaining her the titles Lady of Flame and Eye of Ra. The goddess Bast was sometimes depicted holding a ceremonial sistrum in one hand and an aegis in the other - the aegis usually resembling a collar or gorget embellished with a lioness head.

Bast was a goddess of the sun throughout most of Ancient Egyptian history, but later when she was changed into a cat goddess rather than a lion, she was changed to a goddess of the moon by Greeks occupying Ancient Egypt toward the end of its civilization. In Greek mythology, Bast is also known as Aelurus.

Roman Mosaics with Cats | Pompei










Egyptian Cat | Tomb painting 1300 BC

Ra, god of the sun, in form of a cat triumphant 
over a serpent Apophis, god of darkness and chaos
(Egypt, 1300 BC)

Mark Twain

"One of the most striking differences between a cat and a lie is that a cat only has nine lives."

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Rina De Gatos | Goya

Museo del Prado - Madrid

Inscription on a royal tomb at Thebes, Egypt

"Thou art the Great Cat, the avenger of the gods, and the judge of words, and the president of the sovereign chiefs and the governor of the holy Circle; thou art indeed... the Great Cat."

Fernando Botero

Arthur Conan Doyle | The Brazilian Cat

It is hard luck on a young fellow to have expensive tastes, great expectations, aristocratic connections, but no actual money in his pocket, and no profession by which he may earn any. The fact was that my father, a good, sanguine, easy-going man, had such confidence in the wealth and benevolence of his bachelor elder brother, Lord Southerton, that he took it for granted that I, his only son, would never be called upon to earn a living for myself. He imagined that if there were not a vacancy for me on the great Southerton Estates, at least there would be found some post in that diplomatic service which still remains the special preserve of our privileged classes. He died too early to realize how false his calculations had been. Neither my uncle nor the State took the slightest notice of me, or showed any interest in my career. An occasional brace of pheasants, or basket of hares, was all that ever reached me to remind me that I was heir to Otwell House and one of the richest estates in the country. In the meantime, I found myself a bachelor and man about town, living in a suite of apartments in Grosvenor Mansions, with no occupation save that of pigeon-shooting and polo-playing at Hurlingham. Month by month I realized that it was more and more difficult to get the brokers to renew my bills, or to cash any further post-obis upon an unentailed property. Ruin lay right accross my path, and every day, I saw it clearer, nearer, and more absolutely unavoidable.


Continue here.

Wanda Wulz's self-portrait

 Io+gatto (I+cat; 1932)

Franz Kafka | A Little Fable

"Alas," said the mouse, "the whole world is growing smaller every day. At the beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad when I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I must run into."

"You only need to change your direction", said the cat, and ate it up.

Franz Kafka


Μικρός μύθος
«Αχ», είπε ο ποντικός,
«μικραίνει ο κόσμος κάθε μέρα.
Μεγάλος ήταν στην αρχή,
κι εγώ τον έτρεμα,
έφευγα κι ήμουν τυχερός,
που έβλεπα από μακριά
τοίχους δεξιά κι αριστερά,
γρήγορα όμως να συναντιούνται,
κι εγώ στο τελευταίο να βρίσκομαι δωμάτιο,
και στη γωνιά μπροστά μου η φάκα».
«Απλά πρέπει να στρίψεις»,
είπε στον ποντικό η γάτα
και τον κατάπιε.


(ποιητική απόδοση)

Monday, April 18, 2011

Jerome K. Jerome

"A cat's got her own opinion of human beings. She don't say much, but you can tell enough to make you anxious not to hear the whole of it."

John Cassavetes & Cat

Photographer unknown

John Cage & Cat

Photographer unknown
Thanks to Alexandros Mistriotis























Τσαρλς Μπουκόβσκι | Οι κουρτίνες κυματίζουν και οι άνθρωποι περπατούν το απόγευμα εδώ και στο Βερολίνο και στη Νέα Υόρκη και στο Μεξικό


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


ω, όλα είναι τόσο συνηθισμένα και σκληρά! απίστευτο!
εύχομαι  κάποιος να τρελαθεί
στα βατόμουρα

μα όχι
θα ΄ναι το ίδιο:       μια μπύρα ύστερα άλλη
                              μια μπύρα και ύστερα άλλη
                              μια μπύρα

ίσως μετά μισό μπουκάλι
ουίσκι
τρία πούρα - κάπνισμα κάπνισμα ναι κάπνισμα
κάτω απ' τον ηλεκτρικό ήλιο της νύχτας
εδώ κρυμμένος ανάμεσα σ΄ αυτούς τους τοίχους με ετούτη
την γυναίκα και την ζωή της για λίγο

η αστυνομία μαζεύει τους μπεκρήδες απ΄τους δρόμους

Δε ξέρω πόσο ακόμα
θ' αντέξω
μα ακόμα σκέφτομαι
             ω! θεέ μου!
η γλαδιόλα δυνατή θα ορθωθεί και
γεμάτη
χρώμα σαν ένα βέλος
που στοχεύει τον ήλιο
ο Χριστός θα ριγήσει
σαν την μαρμελάδα
η γάτα μου θα κοιτάξει όπως κοίταξε
κάποτε ο Γκάντι

                           όλα    τα πάντα
                   ακόμα και τα πλακάκια στις ανδρικές τουαλέτες
του κεντρικού σταθμού θα είναι
  αυθεντικά

          όλοι εκείνοι οι καθρέφτες εν τέλει
          με πρόσωπα μέσα τους

                                                    τριαντάφυλλα
                                                  δάση
                                             και τέρμα πια οι αστυνομικοί
                                           και τέρμα πια

                                εγώ.

                        

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Hamlet the Cat

Theater personality Hamlet The Cat lounges in a basket
before one of his performances.
Seriously - it’s part of the Billy Rose Theatre Collection.

















A Christmas edition of Caturday - Hamlet 
(who was apparently some sort of celebrity)
under the tree with some loot from Santa.

Cleveland Amory

"One of the ways in which cats show happiness is by sleeping."

© Garry Winogrand


Τσαρλς Μπουκόβσκι | Ο γερο - αναρχικός


Ο γείτονάς μου μού δίνει το κλειδί του σπιτιού του 
όταν φεύγει για διακοπές.
ταΐζω τις γάτες του
ποτίζω τα λουλούδια και το
γρασίδι του.

βάζω την αλληλογραφία του σε μια τακτοποιημένη στοίβα
πάνω στην τραπεζαρία του.
είμαι ο ίδιος άνθρωπος άραγε που
πριν από 15 χρόνια
σχεδίαζε ν' ανατινάξει την πόλη του Λος Άντζελες;

κλειδώνω την πόρτα του.
βαδίζω στην είσοδο
στέκομαι
χασομεράω μια στιγμή
στο ηλιοβασίλεμα και σκέφτομαι,
υπάρχει ακόμα καιρός,
υπάρχει ακόμα καιρός για μια
επιστροφή.
ποτέ δεν ταίριαξα εξάλλου
μ' αυτούς τους άλλους.

βαδίζω στο πεζοδρόμιο
προς το σπίτι μου

προσέχοντας 
να μην πατήσω 
καμιά λακκούβα. 

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Arnold Henry Savage Landor & Cats

Arnold Henry Savage Landor
with cats Kerman and Zeris
whom he travelled with
in Across Coveted Lands

Aldous Huxley

"No man ever dared to manifest his boredom so insolently as does a Siamese tomcat when he yawns in the face of his amorously importunate wife".

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Madonna & Cat






































Photos by Steven Klein

Roger Caras

"Cats are a tonic, they are a laugh, they are a cuddle, they are at least pretty just about all of the time and beautiful some of the time."

© Weegee








Monday, April 11, 2011

Lynn Hollyn

"Just as the would-be debutante will fret and fuss over every detail till all is perfect, so will the fastidious feline patiently toil until every whiskertip is in place." 

Harry the Cat

© Despina Paramani

Ουίλιαμ Μπάροουζ | Η γάτα μέσα μας

"Αυτό το βιβλίο για τις γάτες είναι μια αλληγορία, στην οποία η περασμένη ζωή του συγγραφέα παρουσιάζεται μπροστά του σαν παντομίμα με γάτες. Οι γάτες βέβαια δεν είναι μαριονέτες. Κάθε άλλο. Είναι ολοζώντανα πλάσματα, και όταν αποκτάς επαφή με ένα άλλο πλάσμα θλίβεσαι: γιατί συνειδητοποιείς τους περιορισμούς, τον πόνο και το φόβο και τον τελικό θάνατο. Αυτό σημαίνει επαφή. Αυτό αντιλαμβάνομαι όταν αγγίζω μια γάτα και συνειδητοποιώ ότι τρέχουν δάκρυα από τα μάτια μου."

Friday, April 8, 2011

Χόρχε | Σωτήρης Παστάκας

Κοιτάζω τον γάτο μου
στα μάτια,
όταν θέλω να κοιτάξω
κατάματα το σκοτάδι,
όταν βλέπω το χαμηλό ποτήρι
ν’ απομένει δίχως ουίσκι.
Κοιτάζω τον γάτο μου
στα μάτια,
όταν τελειώνει το μολύβι,
τα πυρομαχικά,
τα λόγια μου,
τα χέρια που είχα
κάποτε εκπαιδεύσει
να κλέβουν απαρατήρητα
τις καρδιές των γυναικών,
χέρια λωποδύτη,
χέρια απατεώνα,
χέρια που έκλεβαν την αγάπη
και δεν τα καταλάβαινε κανένας,
σε κόσμο, σε πλατείες
κατάφωτες, και σ’ έρημους
δρόμους τα χέρια μου.
Αν δεν εύρισκαν λεία
το αριστερό μου χέρι
ήταν ικανό να κλέψει
το δακτυλίδι μου
από τον δεξιό παράμεσο,
το ακριβό μου rolex από τον
αριστερό καρπό
το δεξί μου χέρι,
έτσι σε διαρκή εξάσκηση
να μη χάνουν το ρυθμό
και τα δυο μαζί
να βυθίζονται στο μυαλό μου
και να μου κλέβουν τις σκέψεις,
τα όνειρα,
τις υποσχέσεις,
τα χθεσινά αναφιλητά,
λέξεις από τα τραγούδια μου,
μεμονωμένες λέξεις-
όταν τραγουδούσα την αγάπη,
τα μαλλιά και τα μάτια της,
τις στροφές και τις ρίμες.
Κοιτάζω στα μάτια τον γάτο μου,
χρόνος συμπυκνωμένος,
όταν έχω χάσει το χρόνο μου
τη χρονιά που μόλις διανύουμε
αν κι είναι στις απαρχές της,
το ήμισυ του μηνός Απριλίου
του σωτηρίου έτους 2007,
ο γάτος μου δεν το γνωρίζει.
Χρόνος αδάμαστος
χρόνος διαρκής
τα μάτια του,
κι έπειτα από το χρόνο
θα με κοιτάνε πάντα.
Κοιτάζω στα μάτια του
τον γάτο μου
τη χαμένη μου αιωνιότητα,
τις ώρες,
τις μέρες,
τα χρόνια,
χωρίς να επιθυμώ
να πάρω πίσω
ό,τι αγάπησα
κι ό,τι έχασα
δεν μπορώ να τα βρω στα μάτια του.
Κοιτάζω τον γάτο μου
κατάματα
να αντικρύσω το βλέμμα
που θα με εκμηδενίσει,
το χρόνο που θα στερέψει,
τον προσωπικό μου χρόνο
τον αστείρευτο επιθυμιών
που δεν έχω ακόμη γνωρίσει,
κοιτάζω στα μάτια
τον γάτο μου,
για να δω τον χρόνο
που θα συνεχίσει να κυλά
και μετά από μένα,
αυτή την ασήμαντη μονάδα
της οικουμένης,
το αφόρητο ονοματεπώνυμο,
τα χιλιοφορεμένα ενδύματα
του εγώ, του θέλω και του τώρα,
τον πληθωρικό παρουσιαστικό μου
σε διαφορετικά γεωγραφικά σημεία
την σωματική επιβάρυνση
που επέφεραν στον αρκτικό κύκλο
οι σινιέ μου γαλότσες,
το πρόσθετο βάρος
που κουβάλησα πάνω από τον Ατλαντικό
στην υπερπόντια πτήση μου,
δυο-τρία βιβλία
δυο-τρεις φιάλες double malt-
αλλά όχι το γάτο μου
μες στο κλουβί του.
Νοσταλγώ το βλέμμα του,
εννιά χιλιάδες χιλιόμετρα
μακριά από το γάτο μου
δεν μου φτάνει να δω τον κόσμο
αν δεν βλέπω τα μάτια του.
Κοιτάζω μέσα στα μάτια
τον γάτο μου
και βλέπω τον κόσμο.
*
Εκδόσεις Μελάνι 2008

Zecchino d'oro - Volevo un gatto nero - 1969

John Keats | To Mrs Reynolds’ Cat


Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand climacteric,

How many mice and rats hast in thy days

Destroy’d? — How many tit bits stolen? Gaze

With those bright languid segments green, and prick

Those velvet ears — but pr’ythee do not stick

Thy latent talons in me — and upraise

Thy gentle mew — and tell me all thy frays

Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.


Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists –

For all the wheezy asthma, — and for all

Thy tail’s tip is nick’d off — and though the fists

Of many a maid have given thee many a maul,

Still is that fur as soft as when the lists

In youth thou enter’dst on glass-bottled wall.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Cat in an Empty Apartment | Wislawa Szymborska

Die—you can’t do that to a cat.
Since what can a cat do
in an empty apartment?
Climb the walls?
Rub up against the furniture?
Nothing seems different here,
but nothing is the same.
Nothing has been moved,
but there’s more space.
And at nighttime no lamps are lit.
Footsteps on the staircase,
but they’re new ones.
The hand that puts fish on the saucer
has changed, too.
Something doesn’t start
at its usual time.
Something doesn’t happen
as it should.
Someone was always, always here,
then suddenly disappeared
and stubbornly stays disappeared.
Every closet has been examined.
Every shelf has been explored.
Excavations under the carpet turned up nothing.
A commandment was even broken,
papers scattered everywhere.
What remains to be done.
Just sleep and wait.
Just wait till he turns up,
just let him show his face.
Will he ever get a lesson
on what not to do to a cat.
Sidle toward him
as if unwilling
and ever so slow
on visibly offended paws,
and no leaps or squeals at least to start.

© Aleksandras Macijauskas


© Richard Kalvar


© Paul Ickovic

Charles Dudley Warner

"If there was any petting to be done...he chose to do it. Often he would sit looking at me, and then, moved by a delicate affection, come and pull at my coat and sleeve until he could touch my face with his nose, and then go away contented."

© Bruce Davidson

UK. London. 1960

© Bruce Davidson | Girl holding kitten

UK. London. 1960

© Bruce Davidson | Cat on terrace

New York City. Central Park. 1992

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Sir Compton Mackenzie

"For me, one of the pleasures of cats' company is their devotion to bodily comfort."

© Dušan Makavejev








































Love Affair, or the Case of the Missing Switchboard Operator
Reblogged from Gatopoder