Neon Cats

The cats in my work aren’t pets. They’re not cute, comforting, or there to soften the edges. They’re alert, wired and a wee bit unhinged.

They started appearing almost by accident — a shape I kept sketching without thinking too hard about why. Over time, they’ve become a constant. A kind of recurring presence very much like my crows.

Cats already exist in that in‑between space. Domestic, but never fully obedient. Affectionate, but on their own terms. They move through the world like they know something we don’t.

When I paint them in neon, that tension sharpens.

Neon is artificial. It’s nightlife, signage, warning lights, pleasure and danger at the same time. It doesn’t belong to nature, but it dominates our cities after dark. Putting a cat inside that glow turns it into something heightened — overstimulated, hyper-aware, almost radioactive.

These cats feel like creatures built for the modern world. Awake at night. Watching everything. Absorbing noise, screens, chaos. Their eyes are always open, like they’re tuned into a frequency just beyond ours.

There’s humour in them too. A bit of menace, a bit of swagger wth a lot of main-character energy!

They’re not here to soothe. They’re here to stay awake.