This title encompasses two pieces; a pair of tigers awaiting the storm.
Oil on Canvas
36"x 24"
I love all kinds of cats. I'm terribly allergic, but that doesn't stop me from admiring their ethereal qualities. They are mysterious, powerful, deadly (in the right size), and graceful. Yet, they are also loving, silly, quirky and strange. As Gord Downie famously put it:
The cat's indifferent or he's just furious
It seems that he's never neither.
These two tigers are brothers; warriors in the tall grass, sprawled with their stripes and twitching ears, awaiting the coming storm. The scent of drifting ions and thunderous rumbles breeze past their ears and turn their heads. A dark horizon approaches. It crawls in pools of puff and snapping snakes of electric light. It's a ferocious charge that must arrive and make itself known through a path that offers both destruction and creation in it's breadth. This is a contrast that also rushes in their blood. They manifest both fangs and whiskers, the same as they will hunt for kill and give life to sweet balls of fuzzy miracle. Their range of spirit is as vast as they are beautiful. They are kings in the grassland, awaiting the storm.
Meow meow, meow meow