Cat no. 67

Cat no. 67 stages a quiet yet charged encounter—a game not of motion, but of presence. A white cat, reduced to its essential contours, crosses the darkened space with instinctual poise. Yet from above, a pair of blue female legs descend, interrupting the feline form and introducing a moment of surreal tension. This meeting is not accidental—it is theatrical, deliberate, and emotionally loaded.

The piece plays with ambiguity and suggestion. The woman’s legs, anonymous and ungrounded, carry elegance but also power. The cat, traditionally a symbol of independence and curiosity, is partially concealed, its shape co-opted by the descending figure. There’s a delicate tension between seduction and surveillance, playfulness and control. The scene feels suspended, as if the rules of gravity—or desire—have shifted.

Emotionally, Cat no. 67 evokes a strange intimacy. The viewer senses both closeness and distance, a tease of narrative that never fully resolves. The interplay between the woman and the cat invites feelings of curiosity, unease, and even humor—but none of these dominate. Instead, the work dwells in the emotional territory of suggestion: where intrigue is more powerful than explanation, and where the “game” becomes a metaphor for the layered dynamics between visibility, vulnerability, and control.

In this suspended moment, the cat and the woman become dual agents of mystery—players in a quiet, poetic game where the prize is not certainty, but attention.

Cat no. 67/ pencil and ink on paper/ 15 x 11 cm