A painting of cats

Two weeks ago, I began doing something I used to do when I was younger but had to drop without much regret for not looking back because there were things in life that I thought needed more of my attention and finite source of energy. I stopped drawing sketches on pieces of paper and declared I am no artist and felt nauseated pretending to be one.

But there was a blank wall waiting to be filled with something, anything that would make it look less empty and white. Well it wasn’t exactly blank as there was the beige metal cover of the box that contains the main switch of the condominium unit. This metal box does not lend the unit that de regueur industrial feel, something that interior designers of late, those wanting to hop on the bandwagon of coolness have been utilizing in all their projects, unknowingly transforming all cafes and places catering to yuppies into endless permutation of that industrial aesthetic I am beginning to abhor.

I bought a 20X20 canvas board, some tubes of primary colors acrylic, and paintbrushes. Color palettes were out of stock in the two National Bookstore branches I had checked, so I had to improvise by using the plastic case of the acrylic tubes to mix my pigments (how pretentious this word sounds).

My cats had to be exiled to the bedroom as I painted them from a photo I took of them a month back. And below is the result of that weekend project that now makes the wall of the living room less bare and my cats curious about the two figures that bear little semblance to them.


tumi and mimi