we come undone

I made this drawing last week and finished it yesterday. I had been drawing from a picture of the screens in the windows above the couches in the living room of my parents home in Ithaca, NY. During the summer, when these windows are open, the cats perch up onto the back of the couch and dig their claws into it as if they're going to get somewhere.

So basically, I've made another drawing of another ruined thing. This past weekend I read some Judith Butler for my Queer Theory class in which she writes how grief enables us to consider and respect one another. She suggests that we only understand some of our relationships with people once we are grieving them-- as if grief is an emotional window to climb through in order to get somewhere. I'm considering this.