Four years ago, on October 12th, Klee and I were doing something absolutely chaotic and magical… loading up a U-Haul with all our worldly possessions, two exhausted but hopeful artists barreling toward a new chapter in Oil City, Pennsylvania.
We were running on coffee, adrenaline, and faith — trying to make it in time for the closing on our new home, affectionately known as The Sunflower House. That same date this year marks both our gallery opening reception at the Red Brick Gallery (October 12th, 4–6PM) and our comeback to the creative scene since Klee fell ill. Our official 4 year anniversary of the closing is Oct 15th which will probably be spent tucked away in our studio.
The Creative Playground We Call Home
Since that wild moving day, our home has transformed into a living, breathing creative playground. Every wall holds artwork, music gear, instruments, sketches, and ideas waiting to happen. We’ve played music gigs, hosted book signings, set up multiple exhibitions, and met some of the most incredible creative humans.
Klee sitting in our new Livingroom 4 years ago. We had one chair for furniture lol.
This is what it looks like now as a gallery space
Our “creative playground” is a wild mix of recording space, art studio, gallery, and coffee-fueled think tank… and we wouldn’t have it any other way. The energy here feeds creativity like sunlight feeds plants (or maybe like strong coffee feeds Rafi).
Why We Love It Here
Oil City and the region has this kind of magic that can’t be faked. The art community here is vibrant, scrappy, and real, filled with people who make things because they can’t not. We’ve made friends who inspire us every day and have found endless support for the weird, wonderful, heartfelt stuff we create and do.
We still miss our creative rogues in Pensacola, that long-distance family of creatives who will always have a special place in our hearts, but we’ve found a new home… with seasons (… Seasons are important).
The Struggles & The Strength
Like any big move and life overhaul, there were struggles. We’ve dealt with broken plumbing, creative burnout, the kind of financial scrapes that make you question your sanity, and this past year, Klee’s health struggles, which made us slow down and refocus on what really matters.
But through it all, we’ve learned to adapt, trust, and create anyway. That’s our motto. Every obstacle became a story, a painting, or a song. Every challenge made us stronger and more grateful for the life we’re building together… one brushstroke, lyric, and laugh at a time.
Back Out There Again
Now that Klee’s feeling better and life’s rhythm is smoothing out, it feels amazing to be back out in the world connecting, exhibiting, and performing again.
So mark your calendars and come see us at our Red Brick Gallery Opening Reception on October 12th, from 4–6 PM. It’s going to be a celebration, not just of art, but of resilience, love, and this amazing creative journey we’ve been on for the past four years. Here’s a sneak peek:
So, I started this blog wanting to only update you on Klee.
She’s not been feeling the greatest lately, and our schedules have been disrupted quite a bit again. Luckily, we will hopefully be taking care of her symptoms soon. It’s been a slow road with some weird twists and turns — one of those “didn’t we already do this?” kinds of journeys. We both feel like this has been going on for a while… because it has. But we also know it could be worse, and we’re grateful that we have the ability to get her care and keep moving forward.
Her smile is infectious, but she’s been having another flare up that will hopefully get taken care of soon.
The problem is that while the shit is hitting the fan, the world doesn’t stop spinning. It just keeps turning — bills still show up, emails keep coming, and your to-do list looks at you like, “So… you free now?” If we expect to keep doing what we do — making art, writing, performing, surviving — we still have to do stuff. Even when our brains are yelling “Nope!”
So, I’ve got a bit on my plate right now.
And by “a bit,” I mean my plate is less like a standard dinner plate and more like one of those massive Renaissance fair turkey-leg-and-stew platters… with a side of existential dread and a giant dollop of “What the hell am I even doing right now?”
Currently, I’m working on a mural design that keeps giving me the creative equivalent of a middle finger. I stare at it. It stares back. Nothing happens. We are in a tense standoff, and I think it’s winning.
Balancing this mural with everything else has been kicking my ass.
I also have a commission I haven’t started. Not because I don’t want to… but because every time I go to start it, my brain says, “WAIT! Before we do that, let’s panic about literally everything else first.”
Then there’s the studio. Oh, my beautiful, chaotic studio — where half-finished projects go to nap under a fine layer of dust and forgotten inspiration. It’s like a museum of creative procrastination.
And don’t even get me started on YouTube and Patreon. I love them. I do. But lately, trying to keep up with posting has been like trying to do yoga in a hurricane. Upside down. On fire. Luckily, our community doesn’t care how long it takes us to come back as long as everyone is healthy and happy. We really have an awesome online community.
Also… I feel fat. I know that’s not something technically “on my plate” (unless you count the jam on bread I may or may not have eaten at 1:30 a.m.), but it’s there, and it’s loud. Apparently, the brain likes to throw in some bonus self-judgment when things get overwhelming. Thanks, brain.
And another thing on our plate? Helping bring the Makerspace to life here in town. It’s an awesome project, something we’re super passionate about, but unfortunately, we had to postpone meetings in March and haven’t been able to do much more than squeeze in a little time here and there. It’s one of those long-game efforts that we want to give our full attention — but life, man, life has other plans lately.
Oh, and my book? Yeah… that was supposed to release at the end of March. Well… that’s today. And it’s not happening. The book is still coming — just not today, not while the universe is running on chaos mode. As much as I want to celebrate it and do it justice, today I’m just trying to remember what day it is.
Book is ready… I just need to upload and format… it’s sooo close!
If I’m being honest — and let’s just be painfully honest here — I’m overwhelmed. The kind of overwhelmed where when my phone buzzes, I let out a sigh so deep it probably registers on a seismograph somewhere.
Because I know it’s another thing. Another ask. Another task. Another opportunity for me to feel like I’m going to let someone down.
The main issue, though? I’m distracted. Klee’s health has taken a bit of a downturn. Some symptoms are creeping back in, and as always, my focus shifts to her. That’s how it’s always been — my heart is with her, period.
This week she’s got another surprise appointment, and they’re starting her on a new treatment. Oh, and just to keep things spicy, we found out we need to go in for more blood tests. These are the little surprise curveballs that pop up when healing is happening. The healing part is good. The constant schedule disruptions and unexpected doctor visits? Not so much.
We have become very familiar with waiting rooms.
And while I’m pouring my energy into making sure she’s okay, my brain is yelling, “HEY! WHAT ABOUT BILLS?! ART?! DEADLINES?! THE MURAL THAT KEEPS GLARING AT YOU?!”
Now, here’s the thing… I did this to myself.
Well, not the Klee-getting-sick part — but the mountain of projects? The overbooked schedule? The infinite to-do list? Yeah. That was all me. In a perfect world, this workload is manageable. It’s the thing I do. But we’re not in a perfect world — we’re in a world where the faucet leaks, the yard turns into a jungle, and family stuff likes to show up unannounced, like a sitcom neighbor with emotional baggage.
I know this all sounds dramatic, and maybe I shouldn’t be writing a blog post while smack dab in the middle of feeling overwhelmed… but here I am. Typing away. Because the truth is, moments like these are weirdly valuable. They remind me to slow down. To stop trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle on a tightrope of anxiety.
And the worst part? When I get into this state, I become less productive, not more. I start doom-scrolling, reorganizing paint jars, watching obscure YouTube videos on how crayons are made, or questioning whether I should just quit it all.
See, you’re not the only one.
Everything feels like I’m trying to run through molasses. With bricks tied to my feet. While carrying all my unfinished paintings on my back. Wearing a very stylish, yet impractical, anxiety hat.
Here I am in my gallery space that I haven’t visited in months… this is an old picture… I still haven’t visited.
But here’s the thing: I know this feeling. I’ve been here before. And I always get through it. Eventually, the fog lifts, the molasses thins, and I remember that I am, in fact, capable of doing hard things — just not all at once, and definitely not while trying to run on empty.
So, if you’re also feeling like you’ve got too much on your plate — like your brain is a glitchy browser with 42 tabs open and your mouse keeps freezing — I feel you. Deeply.
Take a breath. Be kind to yourself. Make a dumb joke. Throw a pillow dramatically. Do one tiny thing. Then maybe another. And if all else fails… pretend you know how to slow down even if you think you don’t know how..
Stay rogue, stay ridiculous, and above all — don’t give up, just slow down a bit. Even if it feels like you’re drowning in molasses.
Here’s an update for all of you awesome humans following along on Klee’s health journey, this one is something else. When you think about Friday nights, you probably picture cozy evenings, good food, maybe a movie, and definitely no emergency rooms. Well, our Friday decided to flip the script on all that and deliver a plot twist we didn’t see coming. Buckle up for the adventure we didn’t order but tackled anyway, because that’s just how we roll.
The Start of The Day: Everything is Calm and Normal
It started innocently enough. We drove to Titusville Area Hospital for some lab work—standard post-colonoscopy follow-up. The gut-and-butt doctor wanted a few more tests. And by “a few,” they meant ALL the blood. As Klee joked, “They took it all!” Despite the sudden generosity to medical science, spirits were high.
Back home, I whipped up some lunch, and we laid out our day: I’d get some work done, chill, eat a good meal, and watch a movie. A solid, low-key Friday plan. Klee napped while I popped online to share a positive update with everyone following our journey. She’d been feeling better, and I was excited to spread the good news.
But then, life said, “Hold the phone.”
The Call: And We’re Off!
No sooner had I hit “send” on my positive message, than the phone rang. The nurse. Not just any nurse—the one with the authority to interrupt naptime and evening plans.
“We need you to go to the emergency room immediately,” they said. Klee’s hemoglobin was critically low, and a blood infusion was non-negotiable. We sighed, looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and said. “Adventure time!”
We packed up and headed back to Titusville Area Hospital, arriving just as the snow started whispering, “I’m about to get serious.” Klee was settled into the ER and prepping to get hooked up to her life-giving blood bag. Meanwhile, I realized dinner time was approaching, and Klee’s dietary schedule is no joke. Because of medications, she needs to eat by certain times, and what she eats can’t be from fast food places.
The Commute: Cooking vs. Snowpocalypse
Determined to get her a proper meal, I braved the worsening snowstorm for the drive home. Earlier in the week, I’d bragged about finishing all my outdoor chores before the blizzard. This almost made me laugh… almost.
At home, I cooked dinner, brewed a thermos of peppermint and ginger tea, and prepped for the return trek. The roads were now less “roads” and more “a suggestion under a layer of snow,” but I made it back to the hospital safe and sound.
Dinner and Ghostbusters in the ER
We turned the ER into our private (and slightly surreal) dinner theater. While Klee relaxed with her blood bag BFF, we dined on our homemade meal and watched an old rerun of Ghostbusters. Honestly, it was kind of cozy (as cozy as you can make an ER room feel). The nurses and doctors were incredible, their kindness making the whole experience feel less daunting.
The infusion wrapped up just before midnight, and Klee was officially released. Her color had returned, and she was feeling significantly better. Success!
The Final Stretch: Snow, Snails, and Sweet Relief
The drive home was, shall we say, deliberate. The snow had fully embraced its chaotic energy, but we took it slow and steady. By the time we finally crawled into our warm bed, we were too grateful to care about how our plans had derailed. Klee was experiencing pain and had to take pain meds for the first time in days, but it was kind of expected with our routine being thrown off like it was. She’s feeling better this morning.
Reflections: Rolling with It
Sure, this wasn’t the Friday night we envisioned, but it reminded us that life doesn’t always stick to the plan. You can either roll with it or get bogged down in frustration. We chose to roll.
The ER team was fantastic, and despite the snow and the stress, we came out of it stronger. Klee’s already feeling better, resting up, and gearing up for Monday’s follow-up labs and Wednesday’s biopsy results.
So, here’s to unexpected adventures, brave nurses, and finding the humor and heart in the curveballs life throws at us.
As always, thank you for your support and love. You guys are amazing! I’ll keep you posted.
There’s nothing quite like starting your day at 4 AM with a little colonoscopy prep, right? That’s exactly how our morning began today. Klee had to chug the second half of her “magic potion,” a gallon jug of juice whose sole purpose is to clear the digestive battlefield. Being the supportive partner I am, I got up too, brewed myself a coffee, and then, in what can only be described as a moment of overachieving empathy (or sleep-deprived bad judgment), I reached for a cup of prune juice to ease my tiny bout with morning constipation. Why? Solidarity? Curiosity? Let’s go with “too early to think.”
This might be TMI, but between Klee’s marathon with the prep solution and my own questionable beverage choice, let’s say this morning turned into an interesting symphony of, well, activity. Hey, it’s all part of the real-life charm we like to share with you. Sorry not sorry.
Early Morning On Our Way To Meadville Hospital
By 7:30 AM, with the front of the house freshly shoveled (by yours truly) to avoid any snow-related mishaps, we hopped in the car and headed to Meadville Hospital. Normally a 45-minute drive, the snow decided to extend that journey to just over an hour. If you’re imagining us cruising serenely through a winter wonderland, stop. Picture instead two people nervously watching the clock like hawks, hoping there’d be a bathroom nearby if the “magic potion” and “poor beverage choice” still had unfinished business.
Despite the nerves, the weather, and desperately “holding it”, we made it to the hospital without incident. The staff was wonderful, and before long, Klee was prepped for her first experience going under anesthesia. For those curious, her feedback on the experience was enthusiastic and brief: “Wow, this is…” followed by an immediate plunge into dreamland.
I was losing my mind waiting during Klee’s procedure but the nurses brought me coffee and were super nice.
After the procedure, the doctor gave me the update: Klee’s colon is still 90% inflamed but healing. There were no signs of anything cancerous, which was a massive relief. He took a biopsy and scheduled additional tests, but the path forward seems promising. The best part of the day? Watching Klee’s face light up as she emerged from the anesthesia, clutching a chocolate pudding cup like it was the greatest treasure on earth. Her joy was contagious—chocolate pudding has never been so celebrated.
This makes chocolate pudding look like the elixir of the gods
On our way home, we picked up some supplies just in time for another round of heavy snow. I’d like to point out the irony here: after my early-morning shoveling efforts, the snow returned in full force. I’m trying to laugh about it, but really, snow? Really?
Back at home, I made Klee some soup—her first real meal after a marathon of clear liquids. Watching her enjoy it was like watching someone rediscover the joy of food. The sparkle in her eyes is something I’ve missed, and seeing her feel a little better—even if it’s a small step—means everything.
Really snow? I just shoveled all of that!
Tonight, we’re taking it easy. I’ve decided to take the day off and not get in the studio. Dinner is happening early, and for the first time, we’re watching The Sound of Music together. (Yes, she’s never seen it, and yes, she’s very excited!) It’s been a long day, but it’s ending on a warm, cozy note.
It’s easy to get wrapped up in worry, frustration, or the uncertainty of what’s ahead, but today was a reminder to pause and notice the beauty in the now. The way Klee’s face lit up at the thought of food. The shared giggle when we both realized prune juice solidarity was maybe not the wisest idea. The simple comfort of planning a cozy evening with a classic movie. These moments might seem small, but they’re the ones that carry us through the bigger challenges.
Life will always have its curveballs, whether it’s a health scare, a snowstorm, or just the daily grind. But it’s in these moments of connection and humor that we find our strength. Even on the hard days, there’s so much to be grateful for—each laugh, each hug, each shared glance that says, We’ve got this.
To everyone who has sent us love and support, thank you. It’s hard to put into words how much it means to us, especially during times like this. We’ll keep you posted on Klee’s progress, we should know more in 7 days. And to those waiting on jewelry orders, we appreciate your patience. Klee is eager to get back in the studio, but her health is not there yet.
Until then, we’re taking things one step (and one pudding cup. Yes, we bought some on the way home) at a time. Thanks for being part of our journey, and here’s hoping for fewer snowstorms and more good news ahead.
Let me start by saying: I’m the worst calendar salesman ever. Seriously, if there was an award for “Artist Most Likely to Forget They’re Selling Something,” I’d win it this year. Somewhere in the chaos of life, I completely forgot to remind you lovely people that I still have a stack of 45 of my Me and It Creatures 2025 calendars left. That’s right, 45! Usually, these are long gone by now, and I’m patting myself on the back for a job well done.
But alas, life has been… let’s say interesting lately. Between Klee’s health challenges and navigating the holiday whirlwind, my marketing skills took a little snooze. (And by “a little,” I mean full-on hibernation.)
About the Calendars
In case you’re wondering what makes this calendar so special, let me enlighten you. Each month is packed with my quirky, lovable Me and It Creatures, grotesque-yet-adorable monsters spreading joy and inspiration. Think of them as your emotional support monsters for 2025. They’ll cheer you on, make you smile, and maybe even remind you that life’s little moments of weirdness are worth celebrating.
And because I feel bad for forgetting to sell them, here’s a little incentive: Use the code rafiwashere001 at checkout to snag 10% off.
Order now, and I’ll ship them out on December 30th. Yes, I will personally ship them. No robots, just me, probably drinking coffee and double-checking your address with the intensity of someone who doesn’t trust printers.
Life Update: Holding On Until the Butt and Gut Doctor Saves the Day
Now, on to the real-life stuff. If you’ve been following along, you know Klee hasn’t been feeling well for months. But there’s good news on the horizon! On January 8th, we’re finally seeing the highly-anticipated Butt and Gut Doctor. (Yes, that’s the technical term. No, I’m not making this up… well, maybe.)
This doc is supposed to be the superhero who swoops in with medications that actually target the root issue. Until then, we’re holding on strong, taking things one day at a time. Last night was better than most—Klee got some real rest, and her pain levels have dropped from monstrously unbearable to just mildly villainous.
It’s been a long and rough few weeks, and we know we’re not out of the woods yet. But the upturn we’re seeing feels like a little light at the end of a very twisty, bumpy tunnel. A little pain is so much better than a lot of pain, and every moment of relief feels like a small victory.
Thank You for Your Love and Support
To all of you who’ve reached out with kind words, encouragement, financial support, or just sent good vibes, we can’t thank you enough. Your support means the world to us and makes this crazy journey a little less lonely and stress inducing (which is important for Klee right now), thank you for the gift of peace.
So, let’s wrap this up with a reminder: If you want one of those Me and It Creatures calendars, now’s your chance. You’ll get some monster magic to brighten your 2025, and you’ll help me not feel like I completely failed at selling them this year.
Grab yours before they’re gone—and don’t forget that sweet 10% off code: rafiwashere001.
Here’s to calendars, creatures, and hoping the Butt and Gut Doctor is the real MVP of 2025!
With love and a little less pain, Rafi (and Klee, who is currently snoozing like the warrior she is)
2025 Limited Edition Calendar Signed By Artist Rafi Perez – Me And It Edition
ABOUT THIS CALENDAR
Get ready to bring a splash of joy and inspiration to your year with the Me And It 2025 Limited Edition Calendar! These quirky little monsters are here to make each day an adventure, with their delightful expressions and heartwarming messages designed to lift your spirits. Each month features a unique scene with these lovable characters, paired with…
$34.00Original price was: $34.00.$20.00Current price is: $20.00.
Klee and I wanted to take a moment to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday season. This year, more than ever, we find ourselves feeling grateful for all of you—our amazing community who continue to shower us with kindness, love, and support.
As most of you can imagine, this Christmas will be a quiet one for us as Klee continues her healing journey. Truth be told, though, we’re holiday hermits every year. By the time Christmas Day rolls around, after weeks of packaging orders and wrapping presents for our awesome supporters, all we really want to do is snuggle on the couch, hunker down, and binge-watch Christmas movies. It’s become our little tradition, and honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
This year feels a bit more precious. Klee will be home instead of the hospital. The thought of her still being there would have been unbearable, so having her home is the best gift I could ask for. That said, I’d love to tell you she’s feeling fantastic and that the pain is behind her, but the truth is, it’s still a day-to-day battle. She’s better than she was last week, but there are still tough moments, bouts of pain, and she can’t really leave the couch much. She’s the toughest person I know, but It’s been emotional for her, as you can imagine, but your messages, well-wishes, and love have been a light in the darkness. She’s been moved to tears more than once by your kindness, and I can’t thank you enough for lifting us up when we’ve needed it most.
A lot of you have asked how I’m holding up, and while I’ve been focused on Klee, I want you to know I’m okay. Of course, it’s tough seeing the love of my life struggle, but I do my best to be there for her—emotionally, physically, and even as her live-in comedian. My goal is to make her smile or laugh at least 5-10 times a day. Not all my jokes are winners (some flop spectacularly), but the laughter is worth every groan-worthy pun.
To be honest, I’m a little tired, but I’m taking care of myself too. Don’t worry about me—I’m finding moments to recharge so I can keep showing up for Klee and for myself.
One thing that has been challenging for me is staying positive through all of this. The truth is, this all sucks right now, and there’s no point in sugarcoating it. But I also know how important it is to stay in a place of hope and encouragement instead of letting discouragement take over. Being positive doesn’t mean ignoring the fact that things are hard—it means acknowledging the difficulties and then making the choice to focus on what I can do, what I can enjoy, and what is going right. It’s a daily effort, but it’s one worth making because it keeps me moving forward and keeps us both grounded in the little joys and victories.
I’m also doing my best to keep up with the business as much as I can, mostly during those moments when Klee takes a nap after her medications. If I was supposed to contact you and haven’t yet, please know I haven’t forgotten about you. I’ll get to it as soon as I can—thank you for your patience and understanding.
This holiday season, I’m cherishing the small joys, like watching her crave and enjoy food again, even if we’re eating separate meals for now. It’s these little victories that remind us healing takes time, but it’s happening.
With that, I want to wish you all the joy, love, and happiness this holiday season can bring. Thank you for your unwavering support, your love, and for simply being here with us. It means the world to us, more than I could ever express.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and all the best for the season ahead. We love you all so much.
Hey, beautiful humans! I wanted to take a moment to give you an update on Klee’s health and share how things have been going at Rafi And Klee Studios since she was discharged from the hospital.
As some of you may know, Klee came home last Sunday after a week-long stay in the hospital. We were over the moon to have her back—home just doesn’t feel like home without her. The first night back was a little rough, but since then, we’ve settled into a routine that’s helping keep the pain manageable and allowing her to rest and recharge.
This Couch Is A Place For Healing
Right now, the focus is all about three things: rest, keeping pain at bay, and maintaining her electrolytes. Klee has been sleeping a lot (thanks to the pain and medication), and her best friend during this time has become… the couch. Seriously, the couch deserves a medal for its service.
While Klee is snoozing or relaxing, I’ve been running around doing household chores, laundry, and holding down the business side of things. She pitches in with some admin work when she’s up for it, but we’re being careful not to overdo it. It’s a team effort, with a regimented schedule that includes breakfast, lunch, and dinner synced with her medications, so I have been making meals that are easy for her to digest, but delicious. Our mornings start pretty early and some of the medications need to be taken like clockwork. This level of structure is a bit new for us—we’re usually more go-with-the-flow—but it’s necessary right now.
Although Klee isn’t feeling well, she is miles away from how she felt last weekend. I’ll be honest with you: I was scared. Seeing her in so much pain and so depleted was terrifying. But seeing her slowly regain some comfort, even if it’s just a little at a time, is a huge relief.
Me Trying To Get Orders Done In The Studio. For everyone that ordered something, we will try and get them out to you sooner than later. Thank you so much.
Klee Doing Admin When She Has The Energy
Me Scheduling Klee’s Medication (this is all so new to me)
Adventures in the Specialist’s Office
Today, we had the pleasure of visiting the specialist (fondly referred to as the “butt doctor”). After a consultation and review of the CT scan, we’ve learned that Klee’s colon is… well, to put it in the doctor’s words, “a hot mess and is angry.” About 90% of the colon is inflamed and covered in ulcers. The likely culprit? A severe Ulcerative Colitis flare-up, which is part of the IBD (inflammatory bowel disease) family. It seems Klee’s immune system decided to throw a full-on tantrum, attacking her colon with ulcers like it’s got something personal against her. That is the speculation, but we will know for sure after her next appointment.
Klee At Her Appointment Today
We’ve got a follow-up appointment in January to take a closer look (yes, cameras are involved), but for now, we’re focusing on keeping her comfortable and supported.
The Possible Culprit: Stress, Spicy Food, and Stress
After talking to the doctor for a while and discussing how this all started, a pattern started to emerge. Looking back, this year has been more stressful than most, which didn’t do Klee’s gut any favors. A major stress factor? One of my adult children moved in (you might remember that adventure from one of my blogs earlier this year), bringing a toxic environment and an aggressive approach to hot peppers. Now, I love spicy food, but when the heat overshadows the flavor, it’s a no-go. Let’s just say there was a build-up of tension in the house, things got weird—and food, one of Klee’s and my greatest joys, became a source of stress instead of comfort.
Klee Enjoying Miso Soup Prepared By Me For Lunch, No More Bullshit Meals Prepared By Passive Aggressive %#&$^*
Klee first started experiencing mild symptoms in May when the drama was at its peak, and as stress escalated, her symptoms worsened. After they moved out, she started to show improvement, but at this point, any stress seemed to cause issues. This rollercoaster of improvement and setbacks made it difficult for us to plan events or keep up with everything we wanted to do. Things took a turn for the worse last week, which sent us straight to the hospital.
Order Updates
For those of you waiting on orders, I’ve been making steady progress! I’ve shipped out calendars and will be reaching out via email today or tomorrow to anyone whose order is delayed. Most of you have graciously told me to take my time (thank you for your patience!), but I want to give you a clear idea of when your orders might ship out. I’m currently finishing up prints and packaging orders, and I plan to ship them out tomorrow.
Me Packing Up Calendar Orders (timed perfectly before dinner time)
Gratitude and Moving Forward
Despite everything, Klee is staying positive, and I’m doing my best to support her. We’re beyond grateful for all of you. Your kindness, encouragement, and generosity have been an incredible gift. Thank you so much to everyone that sent us financial support. It was not easy for me to ask, probably because of my own pride, but I set that aside because what matters most is keeping Klee’s stress levels down. Knowing we’re covered for the next month gives us the peace of mind to focus entirely on Klee’s recovery. Thank you so much, that is a gift.
The holidays are coming up, and we’ll probably go off the radar for a bit. Just know that we’re thinking of you all and wishing you the happiest of holidays. May your days be filled with love, laughter, and, hopefully, a lot less stress than we’ve had this year!
The road ahead may be bumpy (and hopefully not too long), but with you cheering us on, it feels a little easier. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for being the amazing, creative humans you are.
We’ll keep you posted as things progress. For now, we’re taking things one day, one gentle meal, and one couch nap at a time.
With love and gratitude, Rafi (and Klee… and her trusty couch!)
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO US!
Due to Klee’s hospitalization and illness, we have had to cancel several shows and events for the holidays. This put us in a financial bind. Some of you asked how you can support us financially. I added this section. Thank you.
This morning, Klee and I found ourselves in a moment of quiet suspense, waiting on the results of her latest blood tests. These results would determine whether she would finally be discharged from the hospital after seven long days at the hospital. The hours of waiting wasn’t easy; there was a bit of concern due to a rough moment she had during the night, but we held on to optimism.
It’s been a challenging few days—an emotional and physical rollercoaster that began last Friday when Klee started experiencing severe abdominal pain and a debilitating loss of energy. By the end of the weekend, her symptoms had worsened to the point where we knew a trip to the hospital was unavoidable. What followed was a week of uncertainty, long hospital nights, and the kind of exhaustion that makes every second feel like an hour.
Klee is SO ready to go home.
To say we were ready to go home is an understatement. Luckily, this morning, we got the news we’d been hoping for: Klee was coming home! I can’t even begin to describe the relief and gratitude I felt when I saw her smile, knowing she would be able to sleep in her own bed tonight. The moment they told her, she smiled at me with excitement in her eyes and asked, “Where are my clothes?” It was such a small but significant moment that broke through the tension of the past week and made us both laugh.
Of course, getting discharged from the hospital is never a quick process. The doctors and nurses needed to make sure all her pain and inflammation medications were ready for us to pick up on the way home. They also provided us with a hefty stack of printed test results, progress notes, and discharge instructions—a treasure trove of information that will help us navigate her symptoms and pain management now that we’re back at home.
Even though the jeep had an accident yesterday it was also ready for Klee to go home (You can see it in the distance)
After leaving the hospital, we made a quick stop for medication and a detour to pick up some groceries, including baby food—which, strangely enough, has become her go-to snack during all of this. (Turns out, it’s gentle on the stomach and a surprisingly good option while she recovers. On a personal note, banana is delicious… how is this only for babies?!)
While we’re still not entirely sure exactly what’s going on, we now have a lot more information to work with. The doctors sent us home with a mountain of paperwork, test results, and prescriptions, which we’ll be discussing with a gastro specialist (Which we lovingly refer to as the butt doctor), later this week. For now, we’re taking it one step at a time, grateful to have made it through the scariest part and hopeful for definite answers soon.
Klee reading the paperwork and sorting through medication and pain killers.
Klee described coming home as surreal, like a dream. The hospital staff was incredible, and we’re so thankful for the care she received, but there’s nothing quite like the comfort of being in your own space. We got home, organized the medications, and read through all the reports. Of course, we couldn’t help but laugh when we came across one of her symptoms listed as “SOB.” For a split second, we thought the paperwork was calling her something inappropriate, but it turns out it’s just short for “shortness of breath.” (Hospital acronyms: simultaneously informative and unintentionally hilarious.)
The next few months will be focused on her recovery, and I’ll be stepping into the role of nurse while we navigate the road ahead. It’s a huge relief to have her home, surrounded by love and support—not just from me, but from all of you. Your messages, well-wishes, and generosity have carried us through this difficult time in ways I can’t even begin to explain.
As we settle back into some alternate version of normal this week, I’ll be catching up on orders. If you’ve purchased something recently, or ordered calendars, you’ll hear from me soon. Many pieces are ready to ship, and I’ll make sure everything gets out as quickly as possible. Thank you for your patience and understanding during this whirlwind.
If there is anything I can share from this experience, it’s this: Don’t take anything for granted, and don’t allow yourself to get all humdrum about the fact that you are alive and well. Appreciate every moment, every good meal you can enjoy, and worry less about the small stuff. In the grand scheme of things, most of it really is small stuff.
To say I love this woman is an understatement. She is resting now while I type this. Seeing her happy and cozy at home, supported by such an incredible community, fills my heart with gratitude. We still have some hurdles to overcome, but today, we’re celebrating this small but meaningful victory.
Thank you all for being part of this journey. Your support means more than I could ever put into words. ❤️
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO US!
Due to Klee’s hospitalization and illness, we have had to cancel several shows and events for the holidays. This put us in a financial bind. Some of you asked how you can support us financially. I added this section. Thank you.
I wanted to share some updates on Klee’s health, her progress, and our plans moving forward. The last couple of days have been a whirlwind, but we’re finally starting to see some light at the end of this tunnel.
Last night, Klee had her first full night of uninterrupted sleep since this all began. That, in itself, was a huge relief. Yesterday, we received the rest of the test results back. Thankfully, nothing serious has shown up, which is an enormous weight off our shoulders. They started her on a new medication yesterday, and it seems to be working. She’s been doing well enough that, if things continue to improve, she’ll be coming home tomorrow night!
That Little Ball Of Hair In The Bed Is Klee Sleeping Soundly. That Ball Of Mess In Front Is Me Battling The Chair I Sleep In.
Klee Resting After The Medication
A Beautiful View From The Window
A Small Thank You To The Doctors And Nurses Who Have Been Awesome To Us.
We’re both excited about the idea of having her back home, though we know the road to recovery isn’t over yet. Klee still has some pain flare-ups and isn’t fully out of the woods. We have appointments scheduled with specialists to get to the bottom of it, but for now, her appetite is back, her spirits are lifted, and she’s looking much healthier than she has in the past week.
Preparing for Klee’s Homecoming
After spending the last few days at the hospital, I decided to head home this afternoon. Today, I’ve been busy getting everything ready for her return. I picked up her medications, stocked the fridge with the appropriate foods, and prepped the house to make sure it’s a cozy, healing space for her. Knowing she’ll be coming home soon has given me a renewed sense of hope and excitement.
Of course, life threw a little curveball my way during all this. On my way home, a deer jumped out in front of the car. I couldn’t completely avoid it, so the car has some damage, and unfortunately, I’m not sure what happened to the deer. It wasn’t the most pleasant moment, but right now, my focus is on Klee and her recovery. Everything else can wait.
This is one of those WTF moments, but It Could Have Been Worse And For That I Am Grateful.
A Little Bit of Bright News
On a positive note, the Me and It Creatures calendars arrived today as I was getting things ready, and they look amazing! For those of you who pre-ordered, I’ll start shipping them out next week once Klee is settled in at home. There are still some available and I am trash at promoting anything right now, so if you want a happy “Me and It” calendar, I have some I’ll be shipping out next week.
Some of you showed your support by ordering something from us and kindly will wait until next year for us to mail it out. Thank you for that. If you purchased something from us, I’ll be reaching out soon (within the next couple weeks) with a plan for when those will be created and sent out. Your patience and understanding mean so much to us and we appreciate you so much.
Once again, I want to thank everyone who has supported us—whether through donations, ordering something, love, or kind messages. You’ve helped us navigate an incredibly challenging time, and your kindness will never be forgotten.
Endless Gratitude
You have been following our updates and sending love, I can’t thank you enough. Your support has been our anchor during this difficult time. To those of you who sent financial help, words cannot express how deeply grateful we are. Truly, I don’t know how we would have made it through this past week—and the months ahead (which are looking more doable)—without your generosity.
She Looks So Much Better, My Heart Feels Alive When I Experience That Amazing Smile.
Because of you, we’re close enough to our financial goal to focus fully on Klee’s healing and health without the added stress of financial disaster looming. Stress is the last thing I want for her right now, so thank you for giving us this incredible gift of peace. You have no idea how much this means to me. To everyone who donated, I’ll be reaching out over the next couple of months with a special gift to express my gratitude (I know you will say I don’t need to, but I want to).
Here’s to Klee’s continued healing, a brighter day tomorrow, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this amazing community.
With love, Rafi
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO US!
Due to Klee’s hospitalization and illness, we have had to cancel several shows and events for the holidays. This put us in a financial bind. Some of you asked how you can support us financially. I added this section. Thank you.
As I sit here in the hospital typing this, I think, I would rather be updating you on anything else right now. But this is where life has us, and I want to keep you all in the loop because so many of you have been sending us support and love… and, I am spending a lot of time sitting here “thinking” while she rests. Writing this blog is a welcome distraction.
Many of you have been following our journey this week, and I wanted to share an update on Klee. Since Monday, we’ve been in the hospital, and it’s been a tough few days for her starting sometime before her hospitalization. Yesterday brought a glimmer of hope when she was taken off antibiotics and started showing some improvement. She even managed to do a few laps around the hospital, which gave her a boost of energy and lifted our spirits.
As the evening came, we were optimistic about the possibility of heading home soon—something my back, currently at odds with this hospital chair, eagerly anticipates. Unfortunately, the night didn’t go as smoothly. Things flared up again, and Klee endured another rough stretch.
This morning, she’s feeling a bit better, and the doctors are running more tests to get to the bottom of things. The silver lining in all this is that we’ve ruled out many of the scarier possibilities, which is a huge relief. Klee, as always, continues to smile through it all and find moments of joy despite the challenges.
We’re still in waiting mode, hoping for more answers and, fingers crossed, a path that leads us back home soon.
I also want to take a moment to thank each of you who has reached out with emails, messages, and financial support. Typically, our holiday season provides enough income to cover the slow period from mid-December to March. This year has been different. With Klee’s health taking precedence, we had to cancel events and plans, and your support has been a lifeline.
Words can’t fully capture how much we appreciate the kindness and generosity you’ve shown us. You’ve allowed us to focus on Klee’s health without the added stress of looming financial worries. You really have no idea how much it means to us.
Klee and I met and got together in 2009, and honestly, we’ve spent every single day together since. Rarely have we spent a day apart—in fact, I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand the days we’ve been apart. She is my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the most beautiful human I have ever had the pleasure of spending time with. She is magic.
Our life together has been a magical adventure of living on the road, starting a creative career side by side, and eventually buying our dream home together. Over the years, we’ve faced plenty of challenges, but we’ve always had each other’s backs.
2024 has been a particularly challenging year for us both financially and emotionally, for many reasons, including but not limited to—let’s just call it family drama invading our creative space. I saw the stress hit her hard this year and start to present itself in physical ways. Mine did too, but it mostly showed up in the form of more white hairs in my beard.
As much as I hate seeing her in the hospital, I’m grateful that she’s being checked for anything and everything it could possibly be. It’s a step toward answers, and that brings a small measure of peace amidst the worry.
I also want to give a big shoutout to the doctors and nurses here. They have been absolutely amazing and have really taken care of Klee. Their dedication, expertise, and kindness have made a difficult situation so much more manageable, and we’re deeply grateful for everything they’re doing to help her heal.
That chair next to Klee’s bed is an absolute nightmare.
For now, it’s a waiting game. I’ve been perfecting the art of sleeping (or trying to) in a chair that seems engineered to keep you awake. Don’t worry, though—I’ve graduated from vending machine snacks to actual food.
We’ll keep you updated when we can. Thank you for being there for us, for Klee, I am so grateful. Your messages of love and support are a reminder that we’re not navigating this alone.
Here’s hoping that the next update will come from the comfort of home.
With gratitude and love, Rafi
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO US!
Due to Klee’s hospitalization and illness, we have had to cancel several shows and events for the holidays. This put us in a financial bind. Some of you asked how you can support us financially. I added this section. Thank you.
