The Search for a Ninth Life COSI

It is never far from my mind that any writer or diarist will recognize the harrassing,bullying,cajoling and smother one's significan other makes on the creative process.
In my cas it has to be the muse of my dearest companion.
My cat.
Cosi.
Named for the opera Cosi FanTutte,a comic piece about decpetive wives and boorish husbands she has been aptly named.Unless you consider the Aussie slang 'cosi' or costume which isnt suprising consider her rather dusty persian coat....or the fact. I had often instructed her, in the way people do with animals.That as a no nonsense measure.I would consider her death painless,and for her to be remembered as a costume piece, for wear. The taxidermist will have to wait. That particularly ghoulish idea idea met its match ,after an afternoon tea with a friend ,who's cat had recently been tranmorphed into the latest fashion accessory.A fur purse.

Yet an incident came to show me how I react in the face of immediate demise.
Or in this case what should be a memorium to the foibles of my cross to bare for companionship
in fact becomes a celebration of her unique place in my domestic life.

Picture this. The horror as the curb side road kiill is mistaken for the said COSI,the companion of my last decade by my departing mother after a more human concern. This visit has also been a point in which the domestic arrangements between her lap dog and her were given a test.
After the morning vets' visit.The dog is healthy and likely to live another five years ,and not
ready for a exit via vet as a mercy.In her mid seventies I wouldnt want my mother to be campaigning for Uthenasia.
Mind you this, and my mother'sown brush with cancer in the last twelve months would have seemed to have drawn a paralell with her amusement at the companions well being.
Sorry...A dopple ganging cat lies inert at the curb side. I look. I feel nothing.
Not a concern.Infact did the maths on how many cat tins I had bought very morning.
Neighbours emerged bloodied like extras in a 'Tarantino' classic.
Next the flatmates.Acqauintances who instant sympatico appears comic in the extreme
as her lady ship.
Cat.
Companion and feline yawned lazily and walked out into the sunline.
Now at this point.Is one fluffy cat like an another.
Or had my clever friend found a way of disguarding her former self for another.
No.She chose the same bag of bones to do so.
However during the rest of the day.
An acquaintance arrived in to visit teary eyed because he thought
His 'mate' was laid stiffly at the road side.
My own reaction would have to be one of bi partison which has somewhat shocked
companions and friends. But I have always,in most things shown a pragmatic approach to human tragedy.
Meanwhile my aged companion sneezes.
Reminding me....One fluffy cat might look like another but one the other hand...
There has been only one COSI

The Original Gloria

If I was ever to say genesis for a character,then when I heard Carol Channing sing the original sountrack of Jerry Herman's Hello Dolly I was hooked.
Here she is....a voice that could only be said to be crossed with a bandsaw,a cats meow and brass band.AND YET WHAT DELIVERY....
At five foot nothing/pint sized for the last 50 years this extraordinary entertainer has
romped,squawked and sold her broad delivery to some of the biggest stages in the world
Here's to you....
even the movies couldnt capture her....
to the glamour...pizazz...and your dynamo of originality
you have always been my inspiration

MISS CAROL CHANNING......................

The Drag Queen as Geisha

I have often considered the high art and lessons learnt in becoming a geisha: JAPANESE ICON
as not very dissimilar to those as garnered by the average drag queen.
In fact have though that comparisons
could be drawn.

Consider the young geisha who set apart and drawn into the geisha house under the watchful eyes of elder mother figures and geisha still exhibiting their craft,to high paying clients.
That craft can be for highly polished performance to entertain,in the ways of dance,musical accomplishment,and charm.The fact that such geisha may in the course of her duties,offer sexual favour for a variety of reasons: not least of all.Power.Position.Esteem.

Young gay men,in the process of discovering their sexual mores often desert their biological family and seek other role models and mother figures.Such is the lot of the young geisha trainee.
Despite what ever frustration homage is paid to age and experience,and also relevant disrespect
when trying to climb to a rung higher on the ladder.Of course this can be public,or for the better
and more established...thought of but never exposed.

So a geisha is a paid entertainer.Who's skills in music,dance and sexual favour are highly prized,yet spend a lifestyle away from their biologocal families....as simple as that...
it would seem that we have paralell lives.....

To my sisters...consider the life of a geisha

Fuschia

Well there it is...the flower.

Needs watering daily.

and oh the sun would help it in so many ways.

To Miss Fushchia Fucada

so apt.......with love as ever

was more in admiration.

Now fuschias have always had a large part of my life.

In fact it saved my mother from going quite mad...or at least out of current control

Gave her creative gardening for years.

But soon proved that once you are able to name more than a dozen

species....you might as well collect stamps....

but without watering like most creative things gardening or not...

are prone to a short life....

so delicate is this flower.....

and always good to know...

cheering the verandah of many a country town.