LOVE this portrait of Theodore Duret and his cat. Vuillard.
I saw this Frank Bramley picture on Instagram and liked it, and a quick search shows that he had a bit of a sideline in paintings of women with cats at dusk. (They’re better than that might sound – good thing I’m not an auction brochure copywriter.) This is When the blue evening falls.
Thanks to the South African blogger, Miss Moss, I came across these stunning watercolours by the artist Endre Penovac.
I also thought it was time for another quote on the life of that poet-trapped-as-a-cat, The Bear:
I’d bought him a catnip rat and some turkey chunks for (what I decided must roughly be the date of) his last birthday, but it had somehow seemed insufficient. I sensed, deep down, that he might have preferred the latest Jonathan Franzen novel, or a new Werner Herzog documentary that I’d been hearing very good things about.
From ‘The Good, The Bad and The Furry’, by Tom Cox.
I recently came across the work of author and illustrator Helen Hancocks. Her illustrations have a mid-century flavour and the stories enough jokes to keep the adults amused.
Here is William, international cat of mystery, taking a cat-nap (obviously), while heading out to LA to meet a beautiful star who has appealed for help following William’s success recovering the stolen Mona Cheesa.
There is also a nice series on Helen’s website of things she does with her cat. These include sharing fish and chips in the rain, doing yoga, watching David Attenborough movies and doing arts and crafts.
Yes, I’m blogging cats. And anyone who doesn’t like it can temporarily sod off. As this essay says, some cats are actually a polite, pacifist poet trapped in disguise.
I have no problem being under the paw.