I have a companion nomad who shares this house with me. He's a furry face who goes by the name Bandit for the reason that he prefers to wear a mask in the presence of two-leggers.
This loquacious little sidekick is often amused by my preoccupation with the glowing window before me. Sometimes he'll sprawl across the desk to try and get what I'm so fascinated with, while shoving all my papers to the floor. He says, "The place is too cluttered anyway." Occasionally he will swat at the cursor as it moves about the screen. Swiftly disinterested, however, he often ends up shaking his head and moving on to a more cozy crib; where you see him in the photo. From there he can look out a real window; in search of something immensely more inspiring: the blue-eyed Siamese next door.
This favored spot of Bandit's is the bookshelf directly over my right shoulder. When disenchanted by the lack of a view outdoors .. he will now-and-then glance back at whatever I'm working on and offer his unique, yet unsolicited, pearls, such as: "What's with all the shadows? You can't afford another lamp?" and "You call that an interesting expression? The Schnauzer across the street has more character than her."
Nice, huh? Don't you just love a critic who won't put his own work up on the walls? What can I do? It's in his breeding. I blame the Egyptians. Long ago they used to worship these furry faces and cats have never forgotten that.