Painting for Cats 101 – Blue the Artist

Hi, I’m Amanda! Read my introduction to learn more about me and Blue, my fluffy fire point Himalayan-Persian cat.

Blue is a master of chaos who blissfully lacks subtlety. She possesses this uncanny ability to insert herself into the most unfitting or mundane activities without a single care in the world. Determined to get to where she wants to be while trying to be light on her feet but still managing to tornado the course as she goes. There’s no ill intent; she’s just a little cat in a giant cat’s body who has zero shame joining the party, even when the invitation hasn’t exactly been extended. Her latest venture? A painting session with my three-year-old son and me. What started as a zen afternoon quickly turned into delightful pandemonium. Another core memory banked for all of us.

Like most crafts with littles or invasive kitties, the setup always takes much longer than the activity. After changing into our paint shirts, carefully selecting the perfect range of colors, and dropping a blob of each into an empty egg carton, we each chose a picture to paint, and we were off. Both of us were completely unaware that Blue, a bystander waiting for her invitation to the art party, watched us from the next room over. We had brushes in hand, the table thoughtfully covered so I could avoid splashes and unplanned streaks, when Blue sauntered in, her tail flicking with purpose.

Preparing to Paint

From the bench, she observed for a minute, likely absorbing the technique. Dip the brush, slide on paper. Rinse the brush. Repeat. Sweet – got it! Slowly, she hopped onto the end of the table, rolled onto her side, and continued taking notes. Yes, I let my cat walk on the table; we are those people. It’s fine. Here’s where the signals got mixed. I looked at her, and we made eye contact. She then assumed I gave her the green light. An unspoken invite was sent via ESP. I had solicited her participation, and she would not pass on that.

There was no time to object, not that I would have, anyway. She beelined over to me, her heavy feet pattering quickly, dodging water cups and rags for cleaning our art wands between colors. There was plenty of room to my right, so I figured she’d set up shop there, and she did for a moment. Her tail danced across my thankfully dry and barely painted chameleon. Instead of immediately removing her, I took out my phone for a few candid shots of my fur babe/art major because how cute! She flipped around and faced us, so I sat down and continued my painting journey.

Three seconds passed before she rose again. Longing to get even closer to the action. She approached my son, who welcomed her with open arms. After bypassing him and circling the wrong way back to me, she sat on the left side of the table and eventually hopped to the floor because painting wasn’t that interesting, apparently.

Rainbow Kitty

My son was thrilled when he spotted that Blue’s tail was peppered with a rainbow of colors. I sprang into action. A ten-second cat cleanup mission began, armed with paper towels, warm water, and a determination to keep the paint contained in the kitchen. The commotion was a bit much for Blue. Had I not been so frantic, I likely could have snapped a few pictures of her tie-dyed tail after I attempted to clean out the colors, but she aborted the mission as soon as I let her go and retreated to her cave house.

Ivie and I still think about how funny having a rainbow cat would be. I think Blue would agree that crafting, in any capacity, will be a spectator sport for her going forward.