Oil on wood, ready to hang.

Signed on the front.

There was something about the way the cat carried itself that commanded respect. Its sleek black and white fur glistened under the sunlight, and its green eyes seemed to hold a wisdom beyond its feline nature. It held its head high as if it truly believed it was the ruler of the street.

As I passed by, the cat would acknowledge my presence with a mere flick of its tail, almost as if to say, "Yes, I see you, but this is my territory." It would sit motionless, surveying the happenings of the neighborhood with a discerning eye. Birds fluttering in the trees, squirrels on the the sidewalks, even the occasional dog being walked would receive a watchful gaze from the stoop-dwelling feline.
Amidst the chaos of everyday life, the cat became a symbol of tranquility and mindfulness.
It reminded me to slow down, to observe the little things happening around me, and to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings. In a world that often moves too fast, the cat's presence was a gentle nudge to embrace the present moment.