“VOYEUR, BLUE”

I painted Voyeur, Blue in my first few months at college while listening to audio files of my therapy sessions. It depicts my childhood cat, Toby, watching a nature documentary with me in my brother’s room.

Toby went missing a while ago. Nobody really knows what happens, but I have my suspicions. It was hard to think about him having been taken by a coyote or bird of prey. A hawk had nested on our roof a month before he disappeared. I had chased a coyote out of my dad’s rosemary bush not long before that, too. I hope he’s resting well. He meant everything to me.

I affectionately call him my ‘lifecat’, since I had to fall into a coma in order to get him. Neither of my parents wanted a cat - we already had a dog, and they didn’t want greedy children - and I, age 8, begged and pleaded and made various powerpoints lobbying my proposal. I presented my research, and to my disdain, my parents wagged their finger at me. I knew better than to ask again. I gave up the dream.

In February 2013, when I was awoken from my coma for the third time (the first two times I did not recognize anyone) I looked my mother in the eyes and the first thing out of my mouth was a hoarse croak, requesting a chocolate milkshake. They knew then that I had come-to. To my surprise, my reward for waking up was both a milkshake AND a kitten - it turns out my father had whispered in my ear some days before, if you wake up, I’ll get you a cat. Clearly, it did the job. Hallelujah.

Voyeur was also the first piece I painted on unprimed canvas roll and found a real challenge in trying to stretch my finished work onto a backing myself. I armed myself with a nail gun and wrestled my own artwork for well over an hour in the process. Funnily enough, making the backing for Voyeur was also my introduction into woodworking.