I recently realized that although I’ve shared my skull art with the deer skull, the coyote skull, the beaver skull, and the gray squirrel skull, I’ve never shared my full painted collection on my blog.
So I thought it’d be a good time to share some photos and the stories behind the more personal pieces of my collection ✨
Very recently one of the ASMR YouTube channels that I follow had some of her subscribers share their special/unique collections with her, and then she shared photos and talked about them on her channel. The first one she shared was a bone collection that someone had; the person combined *ethically sourced animal skulls and other organic material to create art pieces.
*ethically sourced is a very broad term, and I likely wouldn’t agree with where they got them from, but the pieces were still lovely!
I recently learned that this kind of collection falls into the category of vulture culture, and it’s always interesting to me to see what other people find fascinating enough to collect.
I rarely leave comments on YouTube videos (not because I don’t like supporting individual creators, but because I will often get rude people replying to my comment for no reason, and it really annoys me and kills the vibes), but I left one on this specific video, in which I said:
“I love the bone collection! I have a collection of skulls; some of them are from my beloved pets after they died, and others are from animals that I’ve found passed on the side of the road. I paint floral designs on them and keep the small ones in glass display domes. I think it’s such a special and beautiful way to memorialize and honor the animals.“
443 people appreciated my comment
The rest of the comments on the video were a mixed bag, which I could’ve expected. A lot of people think that having an interest in bones automatically means that you’re a serial killer in the making, but others were very impressed with the art and collection.
I guess paleontologists, archeologists, and every person who appreciates a good natural history museum are creepy 💀
Then there was one comment, which was not a direct reply to mine, but was very clearly directed at me (since nobody else in the comment section had said anything about painting their pets’ skulls). They said:
“I think it’s just me but I feel like painting your old pet’s bones that used to be inside them is a little uncomfortable I don’t have anything against bone art but burial has a little more respect.“
Now, of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but I felt like this comment came across as quite passive aggressive, and it really annoyed me (for reasons that I will get into in just a moment). Of course, I’m not a person who enjoys arguing in YouTube comment sections, and they hadn’t posted it as a reply specifically to my comment, so I just let it go.
Well, kinda.
It did inspire me to share my work on my blog today.
my adorable little collection ✨
The thing is, I do understand the perspective of people being weirded out thinking about looking at their dog’s or cat’s skull on display in their home (see how I specifically said dog and cat? Because, let’s face it, that’s what people are upset about). Really, I get it. I don’t lack empathy. But then, I must ask, why isn’t it weird to have an urn full of your pet’s burnt body prominently displayed in your home? For me, personally, I think they’re both the same level of weird, and I just think that mine is so much prettier to look at ✨
Although I’m perfectly aware that I do not need to justify or explain myself to people on the internet (nor am I interested in doing it), my brain’s first reaction is to instantly scream: are you implying what I think you’re implying? And if so, how dare you! Because it’s actually completely laughable that this person is unknowingly speaking about “respecting animals” to someone who respects animals so deeply that she hasn’t eaten them for almost two decades.
And I have to wonder, if they found out that one of the beloved pet skulls in my collection was from a pet chicken, would they suddenly not be so emotionally invested in my respect towards my pets? Because let’s be real: when’s the last time someone showed real respect towards a chicken…? (Mary Todd would like you to truly consider this, and to repent accordingly 🐔)
my coyote skull — truly one of the most incredible ones to study
If I’m being completely honest, I don’t really think my beloved dead guinea pig gives a single fuck about where her bones were laid to rest. But if she did, I think she’d actually be incredibly happy (and comforted) with the fact that her floral-adorned skull sits in the room where she used to live. And I think that she’d be even happier with the fact that I frequently look at her and am reminded of how much I absolutely loved and adored her (adored her so much, in fact, that I went into a depression when she died, and couldn’t think about her for months without crying).
And the same goes for every other pet in my collection.
a beaver skull in comparison to a red squirrel skull
And now let me ask this important question: why would it be disrespectful to paint a pet’s skull, but not disrespectful to paint a wild animal’s skull? Does having a close relationship with an animal mean that they deserve more respect than the doe that was hit and left to rot on the side of the road, while her fawn waited in vain for her to come back and feed it?
Does a pet deserve more respect than the devoted mother opossum that got hit by a car while trying to safely get across the road one night with a pouch full of vulnerable babies?
(and yes, both of these are true stories of how I got two of the skulls in my collection; I’ll be painting the possum’s skull in the near future, because I think she deserves to be memorialized ♥)
my beaver skull (left), and my doe skull (right)
All this to say, I will not embarrass myself by potentially starting an argument (or a debate) with a stranger in the YouTube comment section, but I’m not above sharing my thoughts on my blog.
If there was one thing that I wish I could make clear to everyone, it’s that they should never try to come at me about the respect I have towards animals. All animals. Not just the cherry-picked few that we decided are “pets.”
And if I could have some strange artsy girl paint my skull when I die, and place me in a shiny glass case and admire the absolute incredible miracle that is a skull, and how it was once the house of a soul (and is now, just as miraculously, simply a perfectly formed piece of bone), then I would.
So without further ado, here are the stories behind the four pet skulls in my collection:
Esther (2015-2022)
My precious guinea pig, Esther, brought me so much joy, and was my little bff for seven years. Anyone who knew me in my Instagram era might remember her from the many, many photos and videos of her that graced my page.
I can’t pretend that she was an angel (she was a diva 💅🏼✨), but she was my favorite thing in the entire world for those seven years.
we had a great work relationship: I gave her handfuls of fresh grass, and she cooperated with my shenanigans for five minutes
The day after I brought her home as a baby piglet, she got super sick and I carried her around in a little blanket pouch for days until she was eating again and regained her strength.
Miraculously she ended up fully recovering, and I think that time together was what created our super strong bond from day one.
some of our best seasonal photos ♥
She used to love running down the couch to grab pieces of orange from Dad’s plate, and when she was especially happy she would even do these strange little rolls onto her back (remembering this now is still bringing a smile to my face).
Although she was quite temperamental in her youth, by the time she died I think she had lost a bit of her mind and had somehow turned into the sweetest, most happy, go-lucky old lady.
once Riley accidently muffled a laugh while talking to Esther, and the sound came out as a huff of air; huffing is how guinea pigs show that they’re annoyed, so Esther got instantly offended, and held a grudge against Riley for a while
Despite the fact that she lost most of her hair, and became quite thin and frail, I always thought she was the most adorable lil rat.
I knew the day she was going to die, and carried her around in a comfy little blanket pouch, just like the first days I had her. By the end of the day she had slipped into a coma, and died peacefully in my room with me that evening.
Oscar (2002-2022)
Oscar was always “my” kitten. My mom, sisters, cousins, and I watched her and her siblings being born on the floor of my parents’ bedroom, and we all picked out “our kittens” (I was 3 years old at the time).
She lived a long and happy life, and was always a bit odd in a way that’s hard to describe. She wouldn’t always show a ton of affection (and didn’t like anyone outside of our family), but she loved to sleep on your bed with you, and you’d sometimes wake up to her licking your forehead.
she was truly a gorgeous cat ✨
She was 20 years old when she died; she had been sick for a short while, and so when the evening arrived when we could tell her time was very close, my family and I sat with her around a bonfire until she died in Mom’s arms just minutes before midnight.
I feel like it was pretty significant that I watched her come into this world, and watched her leave it. A whole entire life cycle.
Ruby (2014-2023)
There was something about my sweet chicken Ruby that made her especially special to me. And I can’t even tell you what it was, I just found her so irresistible.
She had the biggest, fluffiest beard, and vibrantly orange dragon-eyes. And although she was quite independent (and loved to go out in the rain), she would go through phases where she wanted nothing more than to sit on my lap in the sun.
I spent so much time with her that even after these three years without her, I can still easily picture her sweet face looking up at me while we sat in the sun together.
Ruby was not high on the pecking order, so she learned to fly up onto my arm or shoulder (or sometimes head) when I brought out treats; she’d eat while perched on me to thwart her sisters from picking on her
Unfortunately she did not die of old age; a stoat found its way into her pen during one cold winter back when Ruby was 9 years old (still a good age for a chicken, but I wish I had had more years with her). I was absolutely heartbroken, and I couldn’t go sit out in the coop for a long time after that because I missed her too much.
Hazel (2002-2023)
Hazel was Oscar’s sister, who died at the ripe old age of 21.
She was one of the friendliest cats I’ve ever known, and although she didn’t get along well with the two biological sisters that she lived with, she did have quite an interesting relationship with our eye-less cat, Gabby. These days, we’d never keep outdoors cats*, but at the time, all of our cats were indoor/outdoor cats. Since Gabby was an unsuccessful hunter (she definitely tried to though!), Hazel would bring Gabby the small animals that she would catch.
*creating a wildlife refuge is our top priority now, and domesticated cats are a horrific problem for the environment, especially the bird population; domestic cats kill billions of birds annually)
having these kittens is such a core memory for me; I remember vividly waking up one morning to discover that Cooper (the mom) had moved all the kittens to under my bed in the night
art by jordan rae 