On 4th July 2025, I painted an eagle. I painted one again last night. And somewhere between the brushstrokes, I found my own quiet strength. π¦
Spirit of the eagle
Before coffee art!
Painted before coffee. Stopped before disaster.πβοΈπ¨
Woof! Woof!
Started with control. Ended with chaos. Still a good puppy! πΆ
New Yearβs Blessing
I began this new year quietly- with bamboo and a passing dragonfly.
Bamboo bends, but does not break.
The dragonfly reminds us to notice light and gentle moments along the way.
May the year ahead be steady, kind, and peaceful.
Happy New Year!ππ¦
What this painting taught me at yearβs end
This one challenged me more than I expected β especially the sun. But as the year ends, I’m learning that struggle is part of growth. Closing the year with gratitude, brush in hand.
May the coming year bring steadier hands, lighter strokes, and more courage to try again. π¨π
To close out the year, Iβve paired the painting with a quiet rendition of Auld Lang Syne on my YouTube Short. That timeless melody of remembrance and hope feels just right. You can watch it here: [https://youtube.com/shorts/eW4LLwwyics?si=Y0dCdMr2kOYAHImp]
Brushstroke of memory
Itβs been nine years, and still, on these quiet days close to the end of the year, I find myself reaching for ways to remember my beloved aunt.
This time, it wasnβt just words. Near midnight a few days ago, I took up the brush – and this painting came to life: long graceful leaves, two standing tall, others softly surrounding, and one small twig touched with dark pink petals. At the base, a gentle wash of lighter shade, like the earth that holds all growth.
To my dear cousins, MS and MY and to her treasured grandsons, J and H who brought such joy to her heart and stories to her days. And to her son-in-law, KS, whose quiet presence she admired and appreciated.
This yearβs tribute is especially for you. In these leaves, I see her strength and elegance; in this fragile bloom, her lasting beauty. And in the quiet of the painting hour, I felt close to her, and to all of you who carry her light.
Every year I write, but this year, I painted. Maybe because some memories grow deeper, gentler β more like ink than words.
Today, I hope she sees these leaves and smiles.
Still here. Still growing. Still loved.
Always remembering,
Pat β€οΈ
Self Por-horse-trait
π΄ This painting feels like a self-portrait in equine form… mane flowing like ink, spirit untamed!
And complete with my ever-so-slightly crooked seal. Because sometimes, beauty leans into imperfection.π
βDespite the chaos, I re-mane calm.” [www.newbloggycat.com]
Letβs get quacking π
This little duck has lived a long life. It was a gift from my friend’s 90-year-old father, twenty years ago. I brought it home with me from Adelaide.
Since then, it has faded, crossed borders, and survived the not-so-gentle test of doggie teeth. It has been loved, and because it was loved, it has been knocked down, scratched, and cracked.
My recent restoration wasn’t about making it new again, but about caring for its story.
It reminded me: some pieces aren’t fixedβthey’re carried, healed. π¦
Hello, Kiwi
On Christmas Day, a little butterfly came to visit. He didn’t stay in one spot – fluttering playfully around me for five precious minutes before quietly flying away after my eldest appeared. Still loved, still remembered… my precious Kiwi π
Fur-liz Navidad β½(β’β© β’γ
I hope this Christmas brings you calm hearts, love around you, and joy in the small things.
πMeowy Christmas, everyone!π
βMay you be like this catβbeautiful, strong, and effortlessly classy.β β¨πΎ [www.newbloggycat.com]
New Bloggy Cat [NBC] 