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So you want to be a bear cub…
Fresh from their morning stroll, Cal, Tal, and Nia studied Drawist’s three whimsical cat attempts from yesterday.
“Hmmm…” Calliope brought her nose close to each drawing. “Number one — baby wolf — let’s toss it. Not all practice is presentable.”
Thalia and Urania nodded their agreement.
“Number two — scaredy cat is passable as a greeting card if we can come up with a funny saying to go with it,” Cal continued.
Quick witted Thalia tossed out, “If cat’s could talk, they wouldn’t. Nan Porter.”
“And number three,” Cal picked up the watercolor tray, “… wants to be a bear cub.”
A word from Typist:
This morning I drank in the scent of lilacs, felt a cool breeze on my cheeks, tasted chewy toasted coconut, watched raindrops collide with and trickle down the window glass, and heard woof! woof! woof!
Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.
Flow with what feels right.