Almost ten years ago, I happily reconnected with a childhood classmate who, When She Grew Up, became an award-winning photographer. When she viewed the early paintings I was doing at that time -- like "Driftwood Pieces" (2003) above -- she said, "These look like 'Paul Klee meets Ansel Adams'". Oh, if only that were so...! I've continued to hold this fascinating thought as a long-term goal to achieve.
But first, Paul Klee has someone else on his social calendar.
It happened like this: My oldest friend sent a photo of Little Kitty in the arms of her tiny granddaughter (the one we thought might turn out to be "Alanna" but arrived to announce she'd chosen her own perfect name, thank you very much). Then, within the week, I happened to see a handmade street sign, about 2' x 3', that looked something like this:
Ta tum ...a convergence! The two images together suddenly reminded me of a sketchbook note I'd made when I first saw a reproduction of Klee's painting, "Arab Song" (sometimes called "Arabian Song.")
Go ahead -- view it yourself and see if I'm not right: "Looks like a cat."
So how could I resist?...with warm thoughts of old friends and their grandchildren, I had to explore the "spin-off" -- with the cats in our household suggesting the wink (if not a pronounced rolling of eyes).
The more I think about all of this, the more I'm convinced that Little Kitty is a spiritual descendent of Paul Klee's creations.
Interesting suspicion, Kelly. Depending on your point of view, cats are descended from the gods or from the devil, so certainly Little Kitty could have her origins in Klee's Arab Song ("her" because although it runs afoul of biology, my mother referred to all cats as "she/her" and all dogs as "he/him", and I seem to have assimilated that view). You've created a sweet spin-off, although the expression on your own pussy-cat suggests disdain...
ReplyDeleteHow kind and sweet and flattering of you to praise me so! Thank you so much for your words and for offering the link to WizenedEye.com.
And to others who may read this, I offer the comment that there are wonderful things about aging, or perhaps I should call it "ripening", not the least of which is discovering the people we have become.