Cat Prowling on the Rock 1968

Ding Yanyong made this ink painting of a cat on paper, and I love how few marks he needs to evoke the image. There’s a real immediacy in the brushstrokes, a kind of playful simplicity. It feels like he’s not trying to impress anyone, just capturing a moment, and that’s something I really connect with in my own work. The texture, the surface, it’s all right there. The paint isn’t trying to hide anything. It’s like the painting knows it's a painting. Take the rock, for instance. It’s just a few lines, but they’re so expressive. There’s a real physicality to it, a weight and a presence that belies its simplicity. And the cat, perched on top, with that wild tail, it is like a scribble but it speaks volumes. Thinking about other artists, it's like a Cy Twombly drawing – not trying to be anything other than what it is, embracing the messy, the imperfect, the real. It’s about embracing ambiguity, allowing for multiple interpretations, and trusting that the art will speak for itself, or maybe just meow.