Blind. Cat. Ironic. Alive.
Feeling my way through the world —
I sniff it, I listen, I scratch it with irony.
Here you’ll find my thoughts, my stories, and a few gentle purrs.
Welcome to my virtual box.
Blind. Cat. Ironic. Alive.
Feeling my way through the world —
I sniff it, I listen, I scratch it with irony.
Here you’ll find my thoughts, my stories, and a few gentle purrs.
Welcome to my virtual box.
My name is Seed — I’m a blind cat and a little stubborn.
I don’t see the world, but I sniff it, I listen to it, and I feel it with my heart.
That’s how my stories are born: scratches and purrs that speak of life.
This is my true story.
They rescued me from a scorching parking lot and I found myself in a new home — among clumsy humans, cautious cats, and an overly enthusiastic dog.
I learned to get by without eyes, inventing my own way to fight, play, and protect what I love.
Page after page, you’ll discover a journey filled with irony, emotion, and surprise.
A book about trust, rebirth, and second chances.
Right now, my book is available only in Italian — apparently, humans there couldn’t stop purring about it. But good news: it’s already being translated into English so I can finally meow to the rest of the world.
This is my feed: glimpses of my journey — drawings, thoughts, and moments made to share.
I lived with him for years. He used to say I was his Maestro — maybe because I’m a cat, or because some things are easier to see in the dark.
He’s the one who puts my thoughts on paper: he writes, erases, and starts again… without him, my purrs would just be air.
And whenever he gets a little tangled up, he thinks of me. That’s how my voice finds its way back to him — straight from the heart.
This human met me only through stories. She doesn’t know it, but I can feel her just the same. We cats sense everything, even when we can’t see.
She gave me a body made of paper and color. With a few lines she even makes me look elegant (which, truth be told, I am).
If you can see me here, it’s because she knows how to draw what can’t be seen.
I do the purring, I send it over, and she turns it into drawings.
