For as long as I can remember I've been fascinated with small groups of trees surrounded by open space. Even better if the trees are on a hilltop. It has always seemed to me that places like that have a presence, a sense of something being there out of the ordinary, and out of reach of the senses. As if someone dwelled there out of sight. I've sometimes felt it for single trees, but very seldom. Many civilizations have worshipped in groves.
We have a stray cat, declawed, fragile and careful with age, wearing a belled collar, who has adopted us. We're trying to find her owners, and we're caring for her outdoors (our indoor cats would cut her to ribbons - they're not declawed). The contrast between the plump, solid little calico outside, and the long agile ginger tabbies inside has put cats in my head.
The painting above emerged naturally from a nest of lines blind countoured from a series of unrelated art images. I wasn't surprised to see the trees or the cats coming through. Most of the art was of the human figure. Everything can morph into everything else.
Watercolor on Arches hot press - 19 x 19. This is the line drawing as it stood when I took up Abner and started to paint.
Click on either image for a larger view.