I have been summoned to celebrate kitty kind
In other words, I love my cats. So much that it warrants daily rhyming and art in their honour.
Sinister and Sweet is a newsletter with short poems, drawings, and mewsings exploring the magic and duality of cats.
Once a week on most Thursdays (depending on life), you’ll receive a short poem and some artwork inspired by my life as a cat parent to two black and white cats, Bosco and Néo (Bosco means forest 🌲 in Italian, and Néo means snow ❄️ in my husband’s alpine dialect).
Ciao dear reader,
My name is Aimee Johanan, I’m an artist based in London.
In 2024 my partner Matteo and I decided after a decade of longing, to become cat guardians. Now, we look forward to each day, punctuated by mmraows, purrs and mischief.
Oh, and violence. A lot of violence…
At first I was concerned about the sheer amount of battling. But some trawling on cat-parent Reddit reassured me that it is indeed normal for sibling kittens to brawl intermittently.
Sometimes, the poems are from the kitties’ perspective. Sometimes they are my lessons, as one of their humans. Occasionally, a transmission from the mothership makes its way through.
Over the course of writing a dozen posts, the rhymes have become more of a creative prompt, rather than an end in themselves. I use them to draw and write. Recording the magic and exploring what makes being a human so absurd. Through the lens of cats.
How it all started
One patience-trying September afternoon, the kittens and I were in disagreement about what should or shouldn’t be tampered with. Many a plant, many a curtain, many a chair, and many a kitten did suffer in the scuffle.
A question landed in my mind: “You asked for a cat. Did you not receive that?”
I answered. “Well yes, as a matter of fact. So I suppose we are right on track.”
My wave of overwhelm dissolved into laughter. I had indeed received exactly what I asked for. They are both sweet and sinister, both devious and delightful. And how lovely it is to have cats, I’ll never go back.
Since that moment, poems continue to land on the page. I’ll be washing the dishes or de-furring the rugs when a single line and its adjacent rhyme will arrive in my head. Before they slip away, I grab a pen and begin to locate the other puzzle pieces that form the final poem. In the beginning, it was just a couple, then before I knew it, it was time for a new notebook.
What a joy it is to share them here with you and break the spell of hidden art, languishing away in dark cupboards and gloomy Google docs.
If you’ve ever loved a cat, you’ll know that no matter how long, our chapters with them are always too short. So I write to celebrate all the enchanting (and ridiculous) moments, because I never want to forget.
