The short story
It started with cats.
I was drawing fifteen a day. Sometimes fifty. As a joke. Then Catherene, my roommate, lent me her paint box. The cats moved from paper to canvas.
After that, the order gets blurry. More cats. Fine… cats with human mouths. Then people. The energy of people who move me. Then symbols. Then tags. Then all of it mixed together.
Looking back, maybe it was never really about cats. It was the work of impulse inside a restrained gesture.
I tried to understand it. Then I stopped.
Some paintings went to live with friends. One day, people gave me tee-shirts with my drawings on them because they thought they were cool. I love them.
So I paint to create. And I keep laughing.
I left Montréal after 18 years.
I left. The paintings keep touring.
For photography: robincerutti.com.
