Kiko (May 1992 – December 2008) — Abstract Art by kenne
— kenne
“The Blues Is In the Air” — Computer Art by kenne
. . . somewhere around the bend
Do you hear it?
See it coming?
Coming,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Gently,
as on Kiko feet
coming,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Cat whispers
peacefully moving the trees
longing to be heard,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Is it real?
Or only a hypnotic beat,
of the dark rhythm,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
So soothing, so real,
let mesmerizing,
creating visions of hope,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Listen to the stories
without them
life is pointless,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
See it?
Not if you don’t feel it
linking the mind’s destination,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
So, relax,
come with me,
catch the blue train,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Time’s wasting,
Don’t hesitate!
Opportunity is on the move,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
If you feel it
you can see it
in the mind’s eye,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
So, catch the blue train,
ride the edge,
see tomorrow’s vision,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Locomotion,
a blues riff,
Coltrane changes,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Face to face with humanity,
going all the way
to the end of the track,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Forget the plans
of broken dreams,
seek the truth,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Smokes rising
signaling a change,
if you are riding
The last train to Clarksville…
Memphis,
Chicago,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
kenne
Recently I received a comment on a July 11, 2008 posting, “Our Zen Fountain”.
The writer wanted to know where I got the supplies. The concrete pieces
were made in Mexico, but it has now been eight years
since the project, so I no longer have specific information.
The inquiry brought back memories of this work of love.
As I wrote at the time, we waited six weeks for the final concrete piece.
The location of the fountain is near of deck
under a canopy of pine and crape myrtle trees,
which made for a beautiful setting.
Images by kenne
Soon after completing the project, Kiko our 17 year old cat died.
We buried him in the fountain landscape area making the Zen Fountain
a memorial fountain for Kiko.
This project was my favorite landscape project ever.
Two years later we move from The Woodlands, Texas
to Tucson where we have a patio fountain,
but no fountain will replace this very special fountain —
“Our Zen Fountain”.
— kenne
Elusive Kiko — Image by kenne
— kenne
A Cat of Many Colors Over The Would’s Rim — Image by kenne
Over the World’s Rim
Over the world’s rim, drawing bland November
Reluctant behind them, drawing the moons of cold:
What do their lonely voices wake to remember
In this dust ere ’twas flesh? what restless old
Dream a thousand years was safely sleeping
Wakes my blood to sharp unease? what horn
Rings out to them? Was I free once, sweeping
Their Ewild and lonely skies ere I was born?
The hand that shaped my body, that gave me vision,
Made me a slave to clay for a fee of breath.
Sweep on, O wild and lonely: mine the derision,
Then the splendor and speed, the cleanness of death.
Over the world’s rim, out of some splendid noon,
Seeking some high desire, and not in vain,
They fill and empty the red and dying moon
And, crying, cross the rim of the world again.
— William Faulkner
Los Lobos “Kiko and the Lavender Moon” from Bruce Ashley on Vimeo.
— kenne
. . . a continuation from a earlier posting.
She dreams of walking roof lines
In her world of twisted colors
Turning one against the other
Jumping and swatting her muses
Locked in her dark world inside
Outside is her fantasy
Avoiding real world monsters
While sitting in her cabin
Dreaming about green shoes
Hairbrushes and pink ice-cream dishes
Then wishing the world away
Kneeling to dream, dream and pray
(The last verse paraphrases Los Lobos’ “Kiko And The Lavender Moon”)
kenne
Chin Chin — Source: Kiko’s House
Through our cats, each named Kiko, I was first introduced to Shaun Mullen.
You see, like us, Shaun also had a lovable cat named Kiko. And, like us, he named his Kiko from the Los Lobos song, “Kiko and the Lavender Moon.” Having never met Shaun, only sharing a few emails around the time of our Kiko’s death in December of 2008, I continue to feel a connection through his blog, “Kiko’s House.” This morning’s Kiko’s House blog entry is “Chin Chin (ca. 1998-2011).”
“Most rescue cats come into the lives of their new owners in cat carriers or by meowing outside of doors until they are fed. However, chin Chin or Chin has she came to be known, arrived in a pillowcase.”
We, too, now have a rescue cat, Kika. Although unlike Chin, we know little of her earlier life, other than frightened and skittish, she was not an abused cat. Having “. . . lived unhappily in a house dominated by thuggish owners and a big dog, and I would see her tiny black-and-white self peering at me through a lace-curtained window when I would pedal by the house on my mountain bike during morning rides.”
Chin was nurtured back to health, living with Shaun and his family for three and a half years.
“People ascribe great virtues to their pets and can be forgiven the hyperbole that usually accompanies their oohs and aahs.
But Chin did have a special virtue. She had been abused and neglected and then abandoned, yet she had great sense in her tiny head and great love in her big heart in adopting us. Believe me; it was not the other way around. And for a few short years, she gave us a joy that we gladly reciprocated.”
Our animal friends always bless us with love and attention when most needed. (Click here to read Shaun’s complete posting.)
I wrote the following poem about Kiko, two years ago:
He was in my shadow network
Stopping when I stopped
Playing when I played
Sleeping when I slept
Always by my side.
When he danced, I would dance
But never in lock-step,
Only to the rhythm of shared music.
With each step, he took my heart
Building a crescendo of love.
Now the music is silent
As I move in darkness
No shadow at my feet
Only fallen tears of memories
Keeping me close to his ways.
But, darkness will not last
For his name is the password
To the ways of love
And the light of the lavender moon
That will always spawn his shadow.
— kenne
Image by kenne
Kika in my office. Image by kenne
Now that Kika, our new rescued mixed-siamese cat has been with us for four months, I’m learning how much she is like the first mixed-Siamese cat Mary Ann and I got in the summer of 1966 in Okinawa. He lived to be 18 and is pictured with Katie in the image below. Like most tomcats, Niko was bigger with a broader chest and head, but otherwise the two are very much alike. Oh yes, Niko was more of a “talker” than Kika.
We still miss Kiko, but Kika has done a very good job of filling the void.
kenne
Katie & Niko Image by kenne (the original may have been taken by Mary Ann)
It has now been nine months since Kiko passed away. 
Since we knew we would be traveling several times during the first eight months of this year, we delayed getting another pet. A few weeks ago we let several of our friends, who do volunteer work with rescued pet facilities, know we were looking for a mixed Siamese cat. Just before leaving for Seattle for a wedding on Lummi Island, Naomi called informing us that the Montgomery County Humane Society would be placing a mixed Siamese for adoption at the PetsMart store at 4:00 p.m. I went to see her and decided to place a hold on her till Joy would have a chance to visit with her. We adopted the cat with the understanding Naomi would keep her till we returned from our trip.
Our adopted cat’s name is Lummi. In everyway Kiko was a tomcat, Lummi is a lady — actually, she acts more like a princess.
kenne
(kenne, Kiko, Joy and Chase — 2005)
This posting was written December 27, 2008 and was saved as a draft around the time Kiko passed away.
Now, it’s no longer a draft.
He was in my shadow network
Stopping when I stopped
Playing when I played
Sleeping when I slept
Always by my side.
When he danced, I would dance
But never in lock-step,
Only to the rhythm of shared music.
With each dance, he took my heart
Building a crescendo of love.
Now the music is silent
As I move in darkness
No shadow at my feet
Only fallen tears of memories
Keeping me close to his ways.
But, darkness will not last
For his name is the password
To the ways of love
And the light of the lavender moon
That will always spawn his shadow.
This was written for Kiko, who shared the name with a lavender moon. No other animal can replace him,
only the emptiness in our being, which demands unity and connection. Now I turn to “Fish” to maintain
a link to life beyond my bowl. For now, the utility room door is closed – “Kiko has left the house!”
— kenne
Kiko As A Kitten
Kiko and the Lavender Moon — May 1992 to December 2008
In May of 1992, Katie and David gave us Kiko, a half-breed Siamese and Himalayan, but mostly Siamese in personality. For sixteen years, eight months, we were his equal, sharing his life and his home. Now he is gone, leaving us his home, his love, while taking only what was his – well, not meaning to, he took a lot of our love. What made Kiko so special was his uncanny ability to share space without being in your face. He never wanted to be on us, but with us. If I was sitting on a bar stole, he would be sitting on the stole next to me. He knew how to share – our bed was his, unless we were in it.
The last year and half was difficult for Kiko. My attention to his every move was more on alert, as can be witnessed by three blog entries over a five month period. (Post note: these entries no longer exist since they on my old 360 Yahoo blog, which Yahoo has taken down.)
Kiko, Entry for August 02, 2007
Not of a Clower, Entry for November 24, 2007
The Warmth of The Sun, Entry for December 10, 2007
Visits to the Vet became routine, always talking to everyone and calmly staying on the reception counter as I took care of business. He was secure in my presence, and he always will be in ours.
“Nobody can see
And then he waits
And then he fakes
And then he bends
And then he shakes
He plays and plays
Still playing till he
Goes off to sleep”
kenne
Kiko has a place next to the Zen fountain. I think I knew that when creating this special place in our yard near the deck, his favorite place outside.
Becoming is Superior to Being 