The tornado that turned into a cat:

Sleeping cats
Twister unwinds.

Cats?! It was a cold winter. My studio is a short walk from my house. My little house is easy to heat: the high ceiling in my stFile 2015-05-09, 9 59 57 PMudio resists warmth. I spent most of the winter sidled up to my wood stove. I would look at the chair across from me to see my cat had the same idea. I soon found myself drawing him. It seemed silly at first but my cat is a tabby and as soon as I added colour to his stripes, I saw the connection     between my cat and my tornados.

It was a cold winter.
It was a cold winter.

I drew him sleeping, curled into himself and there was another connection. He was like looking into the top of a tornado. And cats, as everyone knows, are bundles of energy waiting to leap. The more I drew him, the more I sensed he was a resting storm, a dormant tornado with muscles ready to cause havoc. The cat is, in a sense, a personified tornado and  the answer to my tornado problem. A tornado signifies homelessness; a cat, more than anything, signifies home.

More cat paintings here.

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