A blog post about cats, knitting, and body mods

I have become a cat-sitter. A woman of two cats, as different as can be, in one house, which is somewhat covered in cat hair.

Strange for the girl who, at the onset of puberty (oh what a horrible word), became horribly allergic to cats.
It seems to have passed now, or maybe I am just used them.
I may have also become allergic to cats because of spending most of my time at the incredibly dirty and cat-filled house of my highschool sweetheart. I was 15 when we got together and we were allowed (by my parents, who were the ones that cared) to spend the night together at his house, but not at MY parent's house. Being 15 and in love, I was at his house OFTEN.

He lived with his mom and two brothers and one sister in an OLD falling-apart house in Aptos. One of those houses where the outside is in, and children have taken over. Broken windows were never repaired, dirt and old food coated every surface, cats roamed in and out, had kittens which grew to be cats which had more kittens. All the kids were sick all the time, there was no heat so everyone walked around in layers and layers of clothes, it was a strange and nevertheless home environment for me. It's a kind of California poverty that I'm not sure if most people have experience with. Decaying hippiedom. Cats and feral children. Anway, my eyes swelled up and I couldn't breath when I was there. It may have been because I was coming from a middle-class hippie home of sparkling cleanliness and double-paned windows. Who knows?
I am only glad to be able to bury my face in the furry tummy of a stretching purring cat. That's bliss.

So, Barnabas and Axl are my feline companions. Axl looks like a grey california mountain-lion. He can jump extremely high. Barnabus looks like a furry shrub with a face. They do a very ferocious version of greco-roman wrestling (with the cat-approved addition of biting) and tackling that is incredibly amusing to watch. I should probably sell tickets. They get momentum going before they attack so that both are carried at quite clip as then roll down the hall.


Molly visited from Vermont and made Luica and I crocheted medival earflap-hats. I requested an elfin point on mine, and she complied.It's brilliant green and very cool (um, to me and my personal sense of style that is..) I was so pleased that I got out of her what she wanted a tattoo of, drew it at around 3 in the morning on Tuesday and tattooed the whole thing on Wednesday, as an earlier appointment of mine cancelled. It took about 3 hours, and was very fun. Challenging, as the flowers (queen anne's lace) that she wanted were white and each single blossom was too small to be tattooed.


This may be the only time that I trade a large leg tattoo for a hat, but I'd like to think not. Hats are my favorite item of clothing and as far as I see it, my collection should only grow. I am still searching for the perfect cloche, so if you know any mad hatters who would like tattoos, let me know. I could also be a advertisement for said hatter, as I would wear their creation while I tattooed. A large part of the fun of this job is having something awesome to trade.

It's sooo much greater!

I wrote a little essay for Paul Davis's excellent online magazine:

Is Greater Than

I'll be writing more. I often get passionate about a new craft when I learn it, but nothing has even compared to the last couple years (?) entering the tattoo industry as a complete alien. I can't really shut up about all the stuff I notice and feel and ......it's given me a lot of ideas I want to play around with and insights which may be right. I'm keeping my writing completely personal: newbie from a weird-background-for-a-tattoo artist enters field of much hype and contention and growth. Is excited by everything to a microscopic degree. Is female.

I thought for a while I wouldn't be able to fit it into my schedule, but I've found that writing for online publication is much faster than say, writing a research paper on Norwegian Kitch-Surrealists and their Fascination with the Post-Apocalyptic Landscape, which is what I was writing about last time I ever did any major writing. In school, is what I mean. Basically, it's shorter. You say what your gonna say, and then you sign off. I should know this. I've been keeping my blog for like, 2 years? I don't know.

In other very exciting news, it's raining! I am sooo happy. Being a California kid who grew up in drought times makes me love rain. Being someone that worked outside in Antarctica in just a hoodie makes me believe in global warming- and therefore love rain even more.
What is it RAINED FOR TWO DAYS STRAIGHT???!!! Be still my heart!

Tones of home

I have the cure for a lonely heart.
Fill it up. Don't allow yourself alone-take everything on possible and love all you will.
I have the cure for the lonely heart.
Simple elegant focus on your mind and not on the obscene.
Cultivate yourself your taste and develop exquisite habits.
I have the cure for the lonely heart.
Total immersion is song and poem and story and tale.
Be under the trees and on the edge of town and look to the horizon.
The horizon is the future where your heart will not be lonely.
I have the cure for the lonely heart.

Stupid human trick

Stupid human trick, originally uploaded by kai smart.

This photo has only 4 views on Flickr. I think this is unacceptable!
Look at how disturbing this is! I have NO bone in my nose! It just collapses like this.

It's like...a rubber nose.
Woah.

Golden Gate Park 1816 and before

Golden Gate Park 1816 and before, originally uploaded by kai smart.

Before the reclamation of Golden Gate Park. I was looking for this picture for a while, and couldn't find it among the many photos I have on flickr. I'm putting it here to remember.

It's a photo of a photo in a old, rare book we got in when I worked at Black Oak Books in SF.