Dream Walker Kisses

My, my the Kougar has been dream walking through her epic sagas lately. Perhaps, because she has been allowed some actual sleep time. Dreams are usually highly frustrating for the Kougar, all that wacky ridiculous icky symbolism to wade through *here the Kougar picks up her paw shaking off the water, yet is still determined to drink and cross the stream's gentle rushing shine*...
However, this dream just before waking, this saga of simply trying to have happiness -- because that's what this dream boiled down to -- all the movie images and colors and emotions -- this dream experience brought such a profound insight -- not merely to the Kougaress's path through this life -- but insight into the path itself.
Yes, dear Big Kittie Lovers, the insight so profound and key to the 'why' of life here, the Kougaress will take her sweet strolling time mulling it over, tasting it thoroughly, experiencing what she has learned. She will watch this new insight evolve into wisdom. She will recover from the earthquake shock she has endured in realizing this truth of our global culture. For it shakes the very foundation of all she has ever believed in, what she has tried to accomplish for All.
Happiness.

Dream walker kisses from the Kougar...

A Little Snow Kiss

The cattle prairie has been decorated with freezing crystals and small mounds of snow, whiteness which almost covers the brown thick grasses. The sky is a dreary cloud-rumpled grayness. And the Kougar is sauntering slowly about her abode, attempting to decide on the best remedy for her muzzy head. Muzzy, because of the new weather front. And definitely sleep-muzzy because of the wicked lovely fantasy dreams about super heroes, the Superman/Clark Kent type, that is -- performing all sorts of steel-throbbing activities. Starring mewing-moi.
Never mind, innocent Big Kitties, the Kougar will begin another one of her 'fantasy' stories. This one in a dark-edged world of super heroines and heroes.
However, in fine lucid dreaming fashion, the Kougaress pounced upon the ending(?) to her most current naughty smut novel in the fun and titillating works. With a grab of her fangs she carried that baby (not an actual secret baby or any baby at all) she carried that baby-ending, featured like a movie snippet in her dreaming mind, and walked into her waking world by opening one eye to a new gray day, by observing a little snow kiss upon the serene wintery prairies.

A snow kiss upon you cheek from the Kougar...

Kiss Your Inner Artist

Grrrr...the Kougar's tail tip smacks the floor as she lounges on her side. Grrrrr...her inner artist must be tamed. Tamed or ignored.
Ever ignore your inner artist? The insistent re-playing music of your muse?
The Kougaress has loads more empathy for those of us on the same artist's prairie, and for the incomparable and once ignored Vincent Van Gogh, a Sun Aries like grrring-moi, I believe. She quite understands the loss of his ear. Not that she is planning on losing an ear to her tortured artist's soul. No, the Kougar is much too vain, and adores her ears.
The artist's soul, lost and mostly buried beneath the piles of fertilizer, yes, mostly brutalized into extinction in this PC society (in the Kougaress's humble opinion) -- done by design, accomplished not by design of the ignorant, but by those who know the power of creativity, the real power of the artist's soul, the power that changes the world for the sacred better -- through the brilliant slice of words, of truth penned, through every type of artistic endeavor ever dreamed and done which Reveals and Illumines. Which touches us all at our most exquisite depths. Our untamed depths...the longing for truth and freedom. The desire to run free as we were born.
Evidence: PBS's Rare Visions and Roadside Revelations. Yard art from the heart. Art for the sake of creating art. And merely for the sake of the soul.
Yet, the Kougar takes much inner comfort, because every day she witnesses the rise of the Artist's Soul, especially observed in her fellow writers. Yes, the artist is excruciatingly and enchantingly alive, like the lonely weed forcing it's life, it's beauty through cement and asphalt, like the fields of wildflowers demanding their color-lovely blooms live beneath the sun's warmth and light -- all by the grand divine design.
The grand design of the artist.

Kiss your inner artist...

Blue Paradise Kisses

Yeah, the Kougaress wishes she was padding the hot sands beneath a gently blazing sun beside the majestically roaring sea...yes, she wishes she could deliciously roll in the squishy shifting warmth of the sand, enjoy the sun beaming down on her belly...and simply relish the blue paradise day.
Instead, yay! yay! Hope it won't be too excruciatingly agonizing, she has received the edits for her contracted novella, All Shades of Blue Paradise -- for which she must mentally prepare herself by some magical sacred process known only to her beloved, most precious muse -- known only to *cat-sleek bowing* before Bast -- known to the great assistant goddesses of creative writing. And the Kougar must not forget the adored angels *her paws held in prayer* --help, purr, help...rumbling please.
Perhaps it is a divinely sent omen, the Kougaress could only hope for such splendid notice -- today the skies were a shade of blue between the streaming long clouds, a deep translucent shade of sapphire blue...the Kougar has never observed before. Not even in her cubhood when she ferociously ran across the suburban lawns -- when the skies were bright shining blue, rinsed by all shades of turquoise...
Perhaps, as William Henry in his cosmic wisdom tells us, it is the blessing of the blue light upon us all. Or the mystic blue apple of the Knight Templars. Instead of the serpent's apple, a fall from grace, the blue apple is offered, an invitation back into the grace of Light.
May we all know the grace of Light.

Meow mystical kisses from the Kougar...

Passionate Ink Kisses

The sun is sinking, my Big Kittie Lovers, an intense bright yellow -- the shade of yellow with gold inside and a hint of mustard splashed on top of it. It's a yowling ick sort of day so far for the Kougaress, a health issue...
However, the Kougar has been eagerly prowling the latest novel offerings displayed by the author members of PassionateInk.org, in Booknotes -- a place for readers to check out which erotic romance they are most famished for next, such a gourmet of various tastes, which always delights the Kougaress. Yum, yum...so many deliciously naughty stories to lap up. Whatever your individual preference...and the Kougaress has always been a fierce defender of individual rights. Roar!!! Individual preferences for All.
Liberty, it is the meat of the Kougar's life.
Roaring yes! Give me reading liberty, or give me the death of those who would deny me. Who would deny anyone else.
Disclaimer: By death -- the Kougar means, not physical death beneath the power of her teeth and claws, but the death of one's ability or power to halt the liberty of another.

Oooooo! My lovely Big Cats, sundown now blazes across the tame prairie horizon in the most glorious passionate ink neon red...amazing, divinely amazing. The artistic paw of the Creatoress favors us.

Passionate ink kisses from the Kougar...

Shiver Cold Kisses

*Brrrr* ...baby cubs, it's cold outside. Shiver cold kisses from the Kougaress to all. The wind is whipping arctic chill around as if it means it. Of course, considering winter officially begins December 21 by order of Father Sun...yes, winter looms like a giant preparing to blow blast after blast of cold at us, his cheeks pumping like bellows... never mind, often the Kougaress' imagination races much too wild and out-of-control.
Friday night, December 21, 2012 or the apocalyptic end of the Mayan calendar -- like the subject of my futuristic novella, When a Good Angel Falls, do you ever wonder, do you ever let your imagination run wild?
Indeed, Big Kitty Lovers, what will the future look like then -- endless savannas of romping paradise? Sure, I lick my chops with that sarcasm.
What if you started from this day, projected from every current trend you see, peered into the future like a crystal ball psychic, how would you write the future? Our future?
Or, if you could write your own script, like the 'masters of your own destiny' crowd, how would you write your 2012 future, my darling Big Cats? What is your savanna paradise...yes, all my lovely big kitties out there on the strange playground of Earth, how would you create the paw prints of your life?

Futuristic kisses from the Kougar

Rainy Kisses

Rainy kisses...the Kougaress adores them upon her face...when the drops are warm and lushly wet...splashing kisses applied by the gusty winds as she travels down to her mailbox...a lovely small travel with autumn's yellowing-tan pastures on either side...with the high-banked pond, home of the froggies, now quiet with winter upon our doorstep...with trees, more and more naked of their leaves...and the color of leaves drifting, covering...in rust and brown-gold piles, future nourishment to Mother Earth...as each drop of rain is a precious nourishment, a blessing the rainy kisses so needed by our too-dry land...
The Kougaress is exceptionally fond of her home territory.
And she is in a bit of mind quandary, a thought spin of where and where not to submit her stories. Her prime t-bone concern, the readers. The beloved reader...for the Kougar's dream is to bring her stories to those who most want to read them, those who would value the stories in any manner beneficial to them, to their life and their spirit.
She wishes, fervently wishes her novels will now, and in our future, bring delicious abundant benefits to All -- including *purr-rumbling* moi -- the Kougaress is not shy in her enjoyment of prosperity, of all comforting luxuries. Even if she is not in need of a new faux fur coat for winter's chill winds.

Rainy kisses to all who are drought-stricken now...
Rainy kisses to all who simply adore them...