theheartlandsblog

[theheartlandsblog]

writing and posting this the evening before. this is a eulogy for ivan ivanovich johnson. it is below the cut. read if you wish. ♡

my super-senior cat, ivan ivanovich johnson, is going to leave this way of life very soon. he is sixteen. he and i are as in love as we can possibly be. he has taught me how to love and live and how to be content and how to smile and mean that smile.

four years ago, almost to the day, my sister found him at 12 years old while taking out the trash. he had been effectively abandoned by one of two former families and had been homeless for an unknown amount of years. the first, at least, was good to him. she was so shocked when we texted her that we had found him. she had not even known he'd been lost. his microchip still had her information, unchanged from a full decade ago.

when he's with me, he trusts me to allow him to let that all go and just be a retired old man with beat-up ears and a bum leg. i have never had such a deep connection with anyone of any species before as i have with him. he wakes me up for cuddles in my bed with me, worms under my feet in his efforts to escort me throughout my house. his body is rickety and full of stories and it melts into my touch. he has never scratched me, and only ever bit out of pain from a sore dewclaw. sixteen years old and the light in his eyes is still gentle and content and happy. he holds my hand when he sleeps. he drools into my palm.

i have been disabled for a year and a half now. i am only just now able to manage it with medication. before that, i was home helping my mother adjust to life after a stroke. before that, it was the pandemic. ivan johnson came to us december 6th, 2020, and now, on the day his body withdrew, i became a first-time college student. i was seventeen. i'm twenty one now. for this whole phase of my life, this phase inside, this cocoon, he's been there. just happy to be involved. pleased as punch to sit by my side and gladly beckoning me to sit by his. now, suddenly, everything changes and moves on, and he is going to change, too. it is all so very put-together. i feel cripplingly young.

when he first came to us, within the very first three days, he was, rather gleefully, peeing where ever he wished. he knew how to use litter boxes and pointedly ignored them. my mother hypothesised, from the next room over in an all-knowing tone, that he'd probably got something wrong with his kidneys. he didn't, then. his immediate vet visit afterwards was passed with flying colours. however, i remember sitting with him on the lounge chair after hearing that, scared for his life, and praying to the universe to take a year off *my* life and give it to him, so we could live it together. just to add it to whatever he'd got left in the tank. i wanted that. it was ok. my permission was out there.

i felt this wind go through me, this acceptance, this wind blowing into his soft, comfortable body, which i was holding. later, so much later, about a year ago from now and when ivan johnson was fifteen, i was first told that we had to watch his kidneys. now it is winter, just like that first one, like clockwork, like the circuit of the earth, of life itself, and his tank is empty. there is a beautiful reflection of him and i in the metal at the bottom. we are looking down at each other. i've prayed that same prayer since then, begged it, saying take it, take anything you want, you have my permission, i love you. but i have never felt the same way i felt during that prayer.

i truly believe he was given one of mine. twelve is old for a cat. for a street cat, even older. what is oldest of all is the very *best* thing about the human lifespan being so long, the very *best* thing about being able to grow so old, the *thing*, the responsibility, the duty, the gift - our animal companions will never know a day without us again. that is a gift. an ancient and perfect gift. it's another gift in the long line of gifts that i get to give him. he will never know a day without me again. i am blessed.

in russian naming tradition, the middle name is patronymic, for the men. their names are decided by the names of their fathers. ivan johnson came to us from nothing, with no one, trotting down the wet asphalt in the dark, just a white spot in the winter night, the spot on his chest. i gave him his middle name based upon his own. *ivan*ovich. he is his own man, his own father, all his own, choosing, with a gentle nudging tap from the universe, to offer his discarded, erased history to me and my family to fill back up. ivan ivanovich johnson is his own beloved man, and he is mine, mine, he is mine because i am his, endlessly. i am his.

for 1,440 days and 1,339 nights, he and i have shared our souls. thankfully, that will continue tomorrow. and the next day. and the next. our job as human beings is to nurture as many others as possible. we have become over millennium the perfect vessels of love and life. hands, brains, language, longevity. evolutionarily fine-tuned to love one another. this is evening is no exception to that blessed responsibility. that's alright. he gets one more night and one more sunrise and sunrises are all the colour of his yellow eyes and that's alright. one thousand four hundred and forty one days. one thousand four hundred and forty nights.

you will rest soon in the year i gave you and the years you gave me and they will blend together because what is mine is yours and what is yours is mine and our life is precisely that. ours. the years before were only a prelude to our meeting and we fell in love and we're in love now and that's alright and that's perfect and i'm telling everyone on the internet that i love you because just telling you isn't quite enough for the amount i've got. and - i know you love me too. what a perfectly wonderful thing. thank you ♡

i hope, desperately, a little selfishly, that i am on the backs of your eyelids when your life plays back upon them as you slip gently from it. i hope that i am there a lot. i hope that you smile at the parts where we are together. i have always so enjoyed making you smile. if i end up in a hospice bed, there is going to be a spot down at the end for you. it will be warm, don't worry - i move around in my sleep a lot. my leg will end up down there and we can share our body heat. you can rest your little head upon it. i think that you will be on the backs of my eyelids when i die. i will die with a smile on my face and they might bury me that way. i love you very, very much. you can think of me as much as you like. if you drool on my foot then that is fine too. i'm happy to be yours.

[theheartlandsblog]

мой кошка Иван. 6 december 2022. graphite pencil and coloured pencil.

two years ago, my sister found him while taking out the trash. he had been effectively abandoned by one of two former families (the first was fine) and had been roaming for years. 12 when we found him, 14 now. he is old and every day he spends retirement with us is a blessing. 💛

[theheartlandsblog]

our ancestors survived concentration camps and police raids and pogroms and slavery and genocides. we can do this - we shouldn't have to, but we can.

nothing but love today and nothing but love forever.

[theheartlandsblog]

happy halloween, i love undead nightmare! here is john marston and his loyal unicorn steed! til death do they start....🦄🧟‍♂️🦋

coloured pencil and pen. october 2024.

this is a redraw of my first undead nightmare/halloween celebration picture, an ancient, crusty relic from 3 years ago...it's here, but it's aged!

[theheartlandsblog]

work-in-progress 🦄

i meant to start this little halloween special LONG before now, but i have been cartoonishly sick, so it's been delayed til now! this is a redraw of an ancient picture i did... ;)

[theheartlandsblog]

nightmare moon, in full battle readiness. 🌙🌌🐎 summer and autumn 2024. first big project after my tendonitis. safe to say i finally conquered it well. pencil for shading and pen for outlines. you'll have to excuse some graphite shine and paper warping - graphite Just Does That under a camera, and my wretched little cat spilled water on her!

[theheartlandsblog]

chapter nine of my RDR2 canon divergence fanfiction, HOMEWARD, is out now.

alternate link source here -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/46637845/chapters/151415374

[theheartlandsblog]

almost done with this behemoth drawing. it's now survived my tendonitis from start to finish, AND an enormous water spill from my siamese cat. i think she's gaining sentience at this point! 🌙

very gently easing back into drawing while my tendons change - light lines, short periods. BUT - i can happily say work-in-progress 🌙

[theheartlandsblog]

chapter eight of my RDR2 canon divergence fanfiction, HOMEWARD, is out now.

alternate link source here -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/46637845/chapters/149405017

[theheartlandsblog]

believe it or not, i'm still drawing! i don't usually post more than one work-in-progress for a single drawing, but considering my recent health hiatus, it's fun to post a little extra. 🌙

very gently easing back into drawing while my tendons change - light lines, short periods. BUT - i can happily say work-in-progress 🌙

[theheartlandsblog]

still testing the waters, health-wise. i decided to do something small and cute for my very best friend @elklounge :

ted raimi in evil dead army of darkness, released 1992. 💙❤️🤍

august 10 2024.

pencil work.

[theheartlandsblog]

very gently easing back into drawing while my tendons change - light lines, short periods. BUT - i can happily say work-in-progress 🌙

[theheartlandsblog]

still taking it easy. =( i'm doing physical therapy exercises for my fingers. it's taking longer than expected, and not drawing hurts me emotionally every day. function is partially coming back, but pain is still there. i've been able to write a little. i'm still hopeful for the end of this month, we'll see.

i'm on an all-around creating break while i try and heal my drawing hand 🫂✏️

[theheartlandsblog]

i think the end is in sight! it was mild tendonitis and every day the stinging is less. i've been bracing them and resting resting resting. by next month, i should be alright =)

i'm on an all-around creating break while i try and heal my drawing hand 🫂✏️

[theheartlandsblog]

i'm still on my little medical leave while my hands heal up - so this is just me posting to celebrate my cat named ivan's SIXTEENTH birthday today, june 10th! he got yummy broth treats, crunchy tuna treats, and lots of love. do you like his beautiful yellow eyes and warrior cat ears? =)

[theheartlandsblog]

i'm on an all-around creating break while i try and heal my drawing hand 🫂✏️

[theheartlandsblog]

gift art for my friend @datastrife of his original character, adamina. 🌳🔮🌀

crosshatched in pen. may - june 2024.