The fine art of a Party Cat battle

I’m not sure why I love this mural. It’s painted on a building along Seattle’s busway in the SoDo Urban Art Corridor.

Maybe it’s the absurdity or the tension or the cat’s pink party hat or the red star on the girl’s pocket.

There’s something about the look in that Girlie’s wild cartoon eyes that draws me: fear + curiosity + complacency.

Like yeah, I’m gonna be this Party Cat’s cake in a minute. Sucks for me, but at least I’m wearing my favorite blue hoodie. 

I’m no art critic, but I can’t help projecting a story into this mural…See, Girlie’s trying to figure out life. She’s trying to do her thing. Party Cat is what Girlie thinks she’s supposed to figure out. Party Cat is the art and beauty and amazingness that Girlie sees in other people.

Girlie wants her own Party Cat. She’s all obsessed with trying to figure out how to tame Party Cat, searching for art and beauty and amazingness outside of herself instead of starting at the “You Are Here” red star to find her own art and beauty and amazingness.

I mean, maybe there’s no striped-hat, pink-clawed Party Cat inside her, but there’s something beyond that red star. There’s a journey that Girlie needs to take and Party Cat is only distracting her from it.

Can you see fear in Girlie’s eyes? I do. But it’s not about Party Cat.

Girlie is afraid of herself.

I get Girlie.

I’ve felt the fear.

I feel it every day…

…that my own art is not only inferior to the work of others, but that what’s inside me–all that I have to offer–isn’t worth being discovered.

I spend a lot of useless time avoiding the journey, getting distracted by Party Cats, and feeling shame.

As I head into my second year of grad school, I’m making a promise to myself.

This year, I will focus on the journey beyond that red star.

There is something worthy inside that Girlie. Even if there aren’t party hats and pink claws, there’ll be stuff that’s just as fabulous. You’ll see.

3 thoughts on “The fine art of a Party Cat battle

    • I need to read Life of Pi. Especially since it was rejected like five times before it finally found a publisher in Canada. The Writing Life = The Crazy Life.

  1. Pingback: Haircuts and other acts of bravery « Hot Pink Underwear

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