In college, I had this wonderful cat named Psychoface*. He was the sweetiest, roly-poliest cat in the world. I adored him. For some strange reason, though, whenever he appeared in my dreams he was a man wearing a cat suit, sporting a unibrow and constantly waving around a smelly cigar. When he talked, he sounded like an old-timey gangster. I starting drawing little cartoons of our everyday adventures with him depicted that way. A few weeks (months? I’m not sure, time has been running together since the big move back to Florida) ago I was going through an old sketchbook and found two of the old cartoons:
I have been missing my old cat-friend lately, so I wanted to make a cut-paper version of us. A decade later and I still wear my cowboy boots on a weekly basis, so here we are. Friends forever!
*Psychoface was named for a poem by Anonymous that appeared in my sister Ashley’s high school literary magazine. Anonymous, if you’re reading, I think you are a genius. The poem goes
You’re so crazy
You are crazy