I wanted a kind of cozied up all of a litter, showing the way cats have of comanding primo spots, and especially in honor of the more than one cat in my life who thought nothing of chewing the hand that fed it.
I’m holding one up and back who was intent on landing on my head, one lapped, one crook of arm. Home fires burning.
The gang, and an interesting project to paint.
The comment from Anne Gitto reminded me that I’d started this with the intention of doing more than an image, I was heading for a meaningful biography. I wanted an inclusion of the ups and downs and long trail of my life, and to show the effect of living the way I have.
It’s a painting that nearly spans a lifetime for that. The white cat on the far right is Babette, rescued from subway tracks in Brooklyn, and of a serious, intellectual nature. I loved her so much, she lived until Virginia and nearly 20 years with me. He son Gorgeous is the Biting Cat, middle. Gorgeous was my last Brooklyn cat, from the mid ‘80s all the way across country. He’d lost all his teeth at the end, July 4, 2004. He also used to swipe my face, claws out, to note dawn and the expected breakfast. Which I put a bit of a hint to on the extended paw of the girl on the left, who is Muffin, one of my first NYC cats in the ’60’s, and very beautiful.
Lot of years and emotions in here.