Come to my show!

Storm factory

Well, tomorrow I start setting up my show called “The Tornado that Turned into a Cat” in Gallery A in the root cellar of the McLaughlin Gallery. The show follows the evolution of the metaphor as I have tried to explain in the three previous blog entries. Here is an invitation:

Correctedmafu2015This is a gallery within a gallery: an artist initiated gallery within the larger public gallery. Any sales go directly through the artists and are not handled by the gallery so please contact me at LynneMcilvride@icloud.com if you have any questions.

If I get my act together (I am VERY tired), I will take a few pictures of the installation. More importantly, I will post a price list online as a blog entry and leave the URL at the gallery. There will be price lists there too but people accidentally take them.

I hope you will come. I am excited about the show. There are a few loose ends. There is a short looped movie my brother and I did. I would like to incorporate that into the show but am not sure how. There will also be a kind of a book that is a cross between a catalogue and a collaged artist’s book. I haven’t really done that yet. Good night.

Storm factory
Storm factory

The tornado that turned into a cat:

Sleeping cats
Twister unwinds.

Cats?! It was a cold winter. My studio is a short walk from my house. My little house is easy to heat: the high ceiling in my stFile 2015-05-09, 9 59 57 PMudio resists warmth. I spent most of the winter sidled up to my wood stove. I would look at the chair across from me to see my cat had the same idea. I soon found myself drawing him. It seemed silly at first but my cat is a tabby and as soon as I added colour to his stripes, I saw the connection     between my cat and my tornados.

It was a cold winter.
It was a cold winter.

I drew him sleeping, curled into himself and there was another connection. He was like looking into the top of a tornado. And cats, as everyone knows, are bundles of energy waiting to leap. The more I drew him, the more I sensed he was a resting storm, a dormant tornado with muscles ready to cause havoc. The cat is, in a sense, a personified tornado and  the answer to my tornado problem. A tornado signifies homelessness; a cat, more than anything, signifies home.

More cat paintings here.