Thursday, June 13, 2024
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Vintage Photos: A Morning in Late Winter, 1994

black cat on table
One of the photos of Kublai I’ve always intended to paint.

No, it’s a different black cat in a photo from 19 years ago this month, Kublai enjoying the sun on the landing where nearly all cats who’ve ever lived here have enjoyed it.

It was a sunny weekend morning in March 1994, featuring Kublai, Cookie, Stanley and Fawn on the upstairs landing that looks a little different with the temporary carpet I’d laid, and without the pine wardrobe where everyone suns themselves now. But it’s the same window, same windowsill, and even the same lace curtain, and the same eternal wash of spring sunshine in the window.

I’ve always wanted to paint the top photo, and at one point I considered it as Kublai’s portrait photo (more on that below), but decided I’d rather have one where he was looking at me.  This one, however, is still on the list, and it’s one of my favorite photos of him.

black cat on table by window
Two photos of Kublai

I found this envelope of photos from March 1994, and I can only tell the date that closely because I finished two pieces of artwork around that time and photographed them; sometimes a roll of film could sit in the camera waiting to be used up, and sometimes it waited to be developed, so any dates on the prints are totally unreliable.

I know I had pulled these to use as reference photos for the portrait I painted of Kublai, “Are You Looking At Me?”, in 2005. Because the envelope was from one of the early boxes of photos, way in the back, it’s been in the stray photo box since then…nearly eight years. Well, at least I knew where it was!

tortoiseshell cat and black cat
Youngest and oldest, Cookie at 2 and Kublai at about 14.

Cookie, looking like the absolute doll she was, is hanging with her big brother, and Kublai has done with hanging out on my shoulder and decided to have a handy nap while I play. Cookie, I know now, was taking instructions from big brother, as she would in later years be expected to know how to take care of the human. A rainbow spot on the floor lets me know it was a magical moment.

Below, Cookie very quickly came to own the sink…and to fill it up, at age 2. She had been quite hungry upon arrival and it was possible her early diet of whatever came along changed her metabolism, but she also ate more than a kitty should. Yet even after I’d learned about portion control—and I had not let them free feed since well before Cookie’s arrival or even moving to this house—many of the “premium” foods I was purchasing had large amounts of corn, which no one seemed to question. Cookie did not digest the corn very well, her teeth suffered and she also gained far too much weight with it. Once I’d learned about corn in foods and found diets that didn’t include it, for several months at this time actually cooking my own meals for them and also raw feeding, Cookie lost weight with normal portions, but she was left with a rotund form, you know, “The Goddess”. And she was darned cute while occupying the sink, which really was the smallest pedestal sink on the market then.

tortoiseshell cat in sink
Cookie in the sink…it was a very small sink…

In my ongoing effort to organize old projects and photos I’ve been sorting through a box of misplaced photos. I’ve always been pretty diligent at keeping my photos in order knowing if I had to dig through all my photos to find any single one I’d never do it, so I rarely pull single photos, instead pulling the entire envelope of photos and negatives, mark the spot the were in their dated box, and try to return it.

photos of two cats
Photos of Cookie and Kublai, and what the landing and bathroom looked like.

But in this little house the photos were not always in a place that was easy to get to, and I did pull individual photos now and then too, thinking I’d put them back right away. Rather than risk their being lost by putting them in a desk drawer or hanging them on the refrigerator, I designated a box specifically for these photos I’d pulled, intending to return them when the massive set of shoe boxes and clear plastic containers was more easily accessible.

And now it’s interesting to look back, with the perspective of today’s feline family who we’ve all seen on this very landing, on a little family from so long ago. These four are the ones who were always with me, and while Cookie was a relative newcomer—she was only two!—she was, like Kublai, Fawn and Stanley, at my side wherever I was in the house. Not included in today’s array are Sally, Moses, Nikka and Allegro as well as Sophie, who still lived with my mother at the time.

photo of cat on table in the sun
Yittle Fawn, looking full of some tortitude.

My favorite photo of Fawn, a slender little torbie cat with marbled toes and stripes all over, and a long, long tail with two orange stripes on the end that were her flag of notification—depending on what those two orange stripes were doing I knew her mood right away, and when she sat the stripes were always laid neatly over her paws. She was about six here.

Fawn was the one kitten who remained with me from the very first mama cat I rescued. She was the “runt” of the litter, just a slender little torbie cat, very attached to me and rather friendly at that time. I had adopted her sister Nikka out to someone else, then took her back in 1993; Nikka made it her business to stalk and terrorize Fawn, who grew less social with time, but always attached to me.

two photos of cat by window
Two photos of Fawn, I’ve always intended to paint the one on the left.

Often I pulled photos when I’d resolved to get a start on a certain portrait or painting I wanted to do; some of these I did, some not. Other photos I pulled as reference photos for portraits or illustrations, not feeling the need to have the entire package out, and all became residents of the stray photos box. Later when I was better about pulling an entire envelope of photos I still wasn’t always good at replacing them, but I did at least keep it protected in the envelope and matched up with its negatives.

Apparently, it’s been a while since I’ve put photos away, and a visit to this particular box is always a trip down memory lane.

Tabby cat on table by window
A rather young and handsome Stanley.

Stanley was so handsome with his big green eyes with the white diamond in between, and his friendly personality, though he was the most troubled cat I’d ever known. But I loved the moments when he was relaxed and happy, and I always knew he felt best when he was with me.

He was probably between 12 and 14 here, still with clear eyes and alert ears. He had suffered about five urinary tract blockages as well, and I had just started on the path to more natural diets and naturopathic treatments and homeopathic remedies of which Stanley was a major benefactor. Once we discovered the right diet for him I managed to control the urinary issues with observing and catching the effects with natural means, and Stanley was overall a much happier cat and never blocked again.

tabby cat on table in the sun
Two photos of Stanley.

You will also recognize Stanley from the painting “After Dinner Nap”, the face that launched a thousand portraits, also found in this post.

And just for interest, the “poster” on the wall above the table is my hand-lettered version of “What a Wonderful World”, lettered in black on the left, and with the title in bold letters reversed out of the “blue sky” background of regular old chalk on the right. I had designed a number of these and sold a few designs back then, but licensing art was so cumbersome that I gave up and decided I’d try again later. I still have this in my studio.

Also there with Stanley on the table is my mahogany angel, which I carved in my senior art class in high school. I wanted her to look like a totem in the wood, rough and undetailed. The Norfolk Island Pine on the left was a housewarming gift from a co-worker when I moved here, decorated for Christmas for my first Christmas in my new house; this plant finally quit growing new branches just about four years ago, and no matter what I did it simply withered and turned brown. The Swedish ivy was a cutting from a larger plant I’d had for so many years I don’t remember; it grew quite large and woody, I took cuttings and started a new plant, over and over, and I still have a few last cuttings from this plant.

Browse some rescued cats and kittens!

All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in using one in a print or internet publication. If you are interested in purchasing a print of this image or a product including this image, check my Etsy shop or Fine Art America profile to see if I have it available already. If you don’t find it there, visit Ordering Custom Artwork for more information on a custom greeting card, print or other item.

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From health and welfare to rescue and adoption stories, advocacy and art, factual articles and fictional stories, "The Creative Cat" offers both visual and verbal education and entertainment about cats for people who love cats, pets and animals of all species.

5 thoughts on “Vintage Photos: A Morning in Late Winter, 1994

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  • I remember Fawn (-then- Gavotte), although I never thought of her as the “runt” (although I guess she WAS the smallest). Boris and Nikka -then- Natasha were both bigger than Genghis…. They were quite a bunch. Phurson was a wonderful mother (with her beautiful spotted belly) and we were fortunate to be able to have her and both boys with us. It’s hard to believe that it’ll have been 25 years ago this year!! So many memories…. Those kitties were so fortunate that you were there.

    • Amby, it’s 25 years ago next month. I wish I’d taken as many photos back then as I have now, but I think I’m going to write something up. They were a bunch of purrrrsonalities! Fawn was always Fawn though–she was named for Oliver North’s secretary Fawn Hall who shredded all the paper in the Iran-Contra affair, just as Fawn shredded all the newspapers under the litterbox from the moment she was able! She was by far the smallest–never more than seven pounds! And she was the last one born, hours after all the others.

  • What a nice post – it was so nice to meet your family from years ago. It’s funny that Cookie was the youngest because she was the oldest when I first started reading your blog!

    • Vicki, I don’t think I really “remember” that day, but I do remember days like it, and all those wonderful cats, I always felt surrounded by friends. And Cookie was an absolute baby doll from day one. No matter how old she got or what she looked like, I always saw that baby cat.


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