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Little Cat A. Oil on canvas. 30x24
This is a portrait of one of my best friends. An important member of my family, and a companion that left a strong mark on my life. A black cat named Little Cat A. He was with me for thirteen years. He had a strong presence, a regal posture, and very serious green eyes. I always knew I would paint him someday.
Is this a good portrait of him? I think so. Is it 100% accurate? No, but it does capture the essence of him, enough that if you knew him you could see him in it, and I'm happy with that.
I painted this with love, and that's what I remember when I look at it. It's an image meant to call forth all those undefined things he meant to me. All the feelings I will never be able to put into words. The memories we shared together. The images of him I always held inside my head. He was the kind of cat that waited for me, that followed me, that stood by me. He was there when I needed him, he was there for me, sometimes, in a way that no one else was and no one else could be. And there's really nothing quite like that quiet companionship. We grew up together. We sat together, watching the night or the day drift by. He was a comfort. An inspiration. A friend. And this painting was my way of remembering, and my own weird way of saying thank you. Of wanting to say thank you. Of soaking in the feelings of being glad, and grateful, and happy that I was able to know him so well, and spend so much time with him.
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