Ming was one of my cats. Today we had to put him to sleep-he had acute kidney failure. I use to go out into the garden and call to him and he would run in that cat-flow way, in a series of fluid bounds to my side. He would look up and lift one paw, his face full of light: the gold eyes in the orange and white fur. Ming means bright in Mandarin. I was totally smitten. I just loved him completely. I use to call him King Ming. He liked that.
This painting is called Wolff & Ming Late at Night. When I would get up in the middle of the night to pee I would think about death. After a while I started to think that I had a date with Death by the toilet every night. The minute I thought that I knew it was a painting. So it became, except I put Ming in with me. In the painting he is unfazed by Death's flamboyant appearance and under lit wing. He is totally cool about it all. I hope it was really like that for him.
2 comments:
Great painting!
I love cats. Love them. Our cat Cinnamon lived for over twenty years. She had a great personality, and we still miss her tremendously.
Sorry about Ming.
You know how cats are always staring at things we can never see, so I think Ming saw Death a long time ago and was just playing with it (Death) all this time.
Your images look great, and I am enjoying some of the words. I was happy to hear form you Mia, it's been a while. I can't believe Virgil is leaving the nest.
beso,
Mike
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