Photo Archive II (Click
any picture for a large view. |
Do
the cats get along?
I get that question quite often. If you were to drop in,
here's what you'll often see, usually with doggie close by,
too. This photo is several years old, when Nago was a lot
lighter color Seal Point. His mother is Pica, who's on the
right, behind Subi, the Blue Point, who's Nago's cousin, and
the eldest. (Now you see why pet shots are generally frowned
upon, along with this too-chatty narrative!) Heather
takes a nap.
This is one of the last photos of her, as she no
longer could lie with her rear limbs akimbo in a
classic Wheaten manner. You can detect hints her
graceful terrier shape, even under that shaggy
beige lambs-wool-soft coat of hers, which we
usually left rather long. It did make her look more
like a Sheep Dog, but that also seemed to match her
outgoing personality. Heather
at play.
This is an early shot of doggie, jumping off the
steps of a rural house upstate where I was visiting
friends Tom and Sharon. You can see their cute
charcoal dog, Pepper, dashing along just in front
and lower center of the photo. Heather loved to
travel, and the dogs had a lot of fun whenever we
could bring them together. This time it was in
September of 1984.
Heather
with me.
Here's a final photo I have of me with "woof" (for
a 28 pound dog, she had a humongous bark), on her
next to last day. If I look haggard, it's because
I'd been crying. But she was happy to be cuddled,
and certainly knew she was greatly loved. While the
previous two weeks had not been kind to her, this
day she seemed to regain a little of her former old
self, still enthusiastic (John Klett always called
her: "Enthusadog".)
I filled the day with treats and extra little
dog-gifts and other such silly stuff one does when
about to part with an endearing pal of many
experiences over many years. Farewell, dear friend.
Pace.
Pica
kittenishly
playing, taking a characteristically graceful,
athletic jump from the top of a kitchen cabinet to
her kitty pole. She and Subi were a lot of fun to
watch as they grew up. A cat pole, which also is
where they scratch their nails -- sparing the
furniture (a tip to other alleurophiles, but you
must expose them to it early on), quickly becomes a
special territory: for scrambling around and
exercising, having a round of hide and seek,
performing wild gymnastics, or just to get up high
for a better look, especially when strangers
arrive.
Pica
napping
on one of her favorite spots, the cable TV box in
the dinning area. This is one of the last good
pictures I have of her (she began to look sick in
April.) I took it at New Year's 1997, when the loft
was dimly lit, a small Xmas tree was lighted
nearby, and everything seemed quiet with the world.
Later on, I turned on the computer, and "Peek"
figured this out, and soon insisted on being lifted
to the top of one of the monitors, her very
favorite toasty place to hang out and nap near me
and all my work and sounds. Pace, sweet
Pica...
Nago
patiently sits up
in one of the few formal poses I have of him. He
wasn't too happy about having his portrait taken,
so I'd postponed doing this most of his life. Subi
and Pica had been pretty good about it when I took
theirs when they were both about three years old,
and these are the pix you see of them above,
against the blue paper roll. Finally I setup the
camera and lights and backing and waited until Nago
was quite still after a long nap. He was still a
bit sleepy. Up on the table he went, "Just sit
there!", I scolded gently, and got off several
decent shots of the old seal point, before he
wanted out. I'm glad to have this photo now.
Classic
Seal Point Siamese,
the best description of this lovely portrait of
Nago taken in September of '97. He'd just began to
show signs of sickness, and for the first time in
his life was not interested much in eating. Of
course you worry that something bad is going on
inside. I grabbed the Rollei and took a couple of
rolls that evening while he was reclining and
cleaning himself. This was one of the best, perhaps
it's even the best shot I have of my friend. The
vet thought the slight lump he felt might be a
cancer in the abdomen, but a sonogram suggested an
enlarged spleen (I still suspected cancer.) In a
week he was eating again, but I watched him closely
from then on.
Several times in
the first months of 1998 the Cat
Trio would
pose dourly like this (the camera's strobe caught
their super reflective retinas very well here!)
Note Walter Cronkite, expaining how angry he is at
the myths perpertrated on a young generation by
Stone's paranoid, contrived "JFK" polemic (I agree
-- letting Oswald off and sanctifying Garrison is
the true perversion.) In February the newest
addition, Pandora ("Pandy"), had joined the crew.
Amusing, and I have several photos of them sitting
just so.
Subi got along
with Pandy right away, but Nago, being shy, was
slower to adjust. I kept her from him when I could,
and there were few real hassles. Since Subi is so
old, it was time to add to the clan, as I had not
the courage of being with but one cat and then none
finally. Overlapping, according to our breeder
friends, is the way to do it. (I'll get more pix of
Pandy here, along with the other two critters,
another Siamese, and a new puppy!)
It's always
difficult to say
good bye.
After the surgery, Nago had about ten more weeks of
mostly decent time. He purred often, sought me out
a great deal, and spent days in bed with me when I
was very sick much of the month of June in '98. He
always loved cuddling in bed, and I could hardly
object to having this beloved companion with me. He
even seemed healthier than I did for a while, was
eating regularly, and showed no other symptoms.
Then on a Saturday in July he suddenly refused one
of the extra meals I was feeding him. "No
breakfast, Nags?" Not a good sign.
A
long good-bye,
the most difficult in years, has finally happened.
Dear ol' Subi gray cat is gone, on Thursday
afternoon, 5/17/01, just short of his 20th
birthday. (See the pencil
sketch I
drew of him sitting on my lap during his final
evening, on
the artwork page
HERE.)
I've been dreading this even as it became more and
more probable. In 1998 Subi had been diagnosed with
a moderate case of renal failure. His kidneys, as
with most older creatures, were losing their
function, and would probably end his life soon, the
vet explained. For a while he had to be hydrated,
with some Ringer's Lactate injected under his skin
every week. It always seemed to make him feel
better, increased his appetite and disposition. As with older
people (I've seen it with my parents, and I'll be
getting there soon enough myself) he was able to do
fewer of the things he enjoyed most of his life.
Yet there were compensations. He still sought out
my lap constantly, was eating well, enjoying
special treats, and showed great affection and
constant awareness, right to the last week. His
purr remained generous. Here you can see young
Pandy cleaning the dear fuzzer just a couple of
nights before he died. He seemed to enjoy her
attention, probably bringing back memories of
similar grooming help from Pica and Nago.
I also gave him
regular cat "sponge baths," and had twice the past
week (once when he got caught into a dusty spot).
He loved getting a "blow-dry" the last month, with
my hairdryer on low heat (mmm... cats like it
warm), while a soft rubber brush groomed him and
his shiny, still-healthy coat. This Little Lord
Fauntleroy of a cat had always been clean and neat,
and so he was on his final few days.
Subi had again
found his way by feel into the bedroom, and for his
final year slept every night beside me in bed,
usually with his head under my arm, pressed up
against my left side (often with his head on my
pillow, as here, his final morning). I'm a quiet
sleeper, and this worked very well, and it was a
great comfort to us both. I was able to put on hold
any travel plans, to be here with him for the final
year and a half. So it became obvious exactly when
Subi suddenly reached the point where the simple
pleasures of life were no longer enough. On May
12th he refused all food. His final meal taken
voluntarily was some grilled swordfish I'd had for
dinner on Monday, and saved him the best part,
broken into small pieces. That was always a big
treat, and became the last meal he would take.
Here you can see
him, under his own power, a brave, gaunt little
figure inching his way out of the bedroom for a
final time. He was still drinking a little, and
suddenly wanted down from the bed to seek his water
dish. I had taken a camera into the bedroom with
us, and caught him feeling his way out to the
kitchen area and the dish. I got out of bed and
dressed quickly. This would be his final day,
instead of allowing the now frail cat to starve to
death 3-5 days later. (He had very slowly lost
about half his weight during the final two years,
from over 7 lbs. to 3 1/2.) Subi's time had
come.
The critters have
a wonderful vet, a truly compassionate person. He's
gone through this with his own pets many times, and
could advise from personal experience, the most
merciful way to hasten the inevitable. Again a
sleep inducing medication would be used for a first
step, as for Nago. So this sweet old character with
the pungent personality would spend his last few
hours in his own home, among friends, without
tension or incident, fear or trauma. I spread out a
new thick bath towel onto the table.
After one last
tender time on my lap (the two of us are together
above), I took a couple of final closeup snapshots
of him resting quietly in my lap. This is the last
photo I have of him (in
a similar pose to that sketch
I made
the evening before).
You can see that he's not sleeping, but just
waiting for the inevitable, patiently and with
dignity.
Then I carefully
carried him to the table, onto the soft towel, to
give him a strong sedative. It took about 8 to 10
minutes to take effect. All the time I spoke to
him, pet him all over, hummed to him, kissed him,
his head pressed against my face, the usual homely
and loving ritual we'd shared for years. He began
to fall asleep, and I helped him lie down. A couple
of minutes more to be sure he was deeply asleep,
and then gently into the carrier. It turned out to
have the very same small towel in it which
Stephanie (his breeder) had given to me for Subi's
original trip here, early November 1981. Now it
would cradle him for the final visit to the
vets. |
Here's something you've never seen before. It's called The Circon, short for: "Circular Controller". I built it originally in 1978, when Rachel and I had been asked to score Kubrick's The Shining. It has no sound of its own, although with the proper synthesizer patch it makes a marvelous Theremin. Unlike that earlier instrument, you don't hold your hands in free space. The pitch wand is an easy to move pointer arm that shows which note you're playing, with the exact center marked by a grey dot, so microtonal passages become possible. The left hand moves a much shorter arm which is spring loaded, to return up (off) when released. The further down, the louder and brighter the sound, in its usual configuration. Since you have physical references, you can repeat notes, and jump wide intervals, with complete accuracy. So it's a lot easier to play (and play well!) than the Theremin. At least for me it is. It's a featured instrument on Tales of Heaven and Hell, where you can hear it to good effect on several of the selections. It's the distinctive main solo on Heavenscent, (described nicely HERE). Here's the background on the Circon, if you're interested. Note: we've taken several additional photos of the instrument, some original suggestions from Bob Moog, also an inspirational 50+ year old magazine article, and added them all to our dedicated Circon Page. Even if you've looked at this in the past, you might want to take another look again.
Waves
at Matsushima Now
if I both admit that I love this cover, too, and commend you
for your good taste, is this logically self-serving?
Whatever. Rachel found this beautiful painting (the original
screens are about 5' tall) to use as the album cover of our
1972 release, and it's gotten a lot of compliments since
then. (To read even more about it, check out our new
Matsu
Page.) A small
poster sized enlargement, about 2' x 3' of most of the
screens was included with each double-LP set when it was
originally released. I've been informed that these are now
considered "collector's items," or some such trendiness.
This is a newly optimized image of the screens you see here,
from the cover of the newly
remastered Sonic Seasonings+ ESD
CD.
|
An
Historic Microtonal Instrument From
England.
With the release of my Beauty
in the Beast
album, and then Switched-On
Bach 2000 and
Tales
of Heaven and Hell,
I became known for my composing in, and arranging music with
tunings other than the standard 12-step equal tempered
scale. The new enhanced-CD version of the first title,
BitB,
happens to include (in the enhanced files on that CD) a long
article I wrote about the history and experiences of working
with other tunings, shortly after creating the album. It was
published in Computer Music Journal, and is titled:
"Tuning
-- At the Crossroads."
The final illustration for the article is a perspective
drawing of a "generalized keyboard", one that I started to
build twice, but never had the practical resources to bring
it to fruition. One of my great life disappointments, but
then, you can't have everything you wish for. More recently,
via MIDI and Digital Performer, I've cobbled some
workarounds using standard tools. Even a dreamer must
occasionally be practical! ©
1996-2008 Serendip LLC. No images, text, graphics or
design |
|
Wendy
Carlos Photos II