A woman is peacefully pouring milk for her cat, who is gently sitting next to her and waiting. The lady’s face communicates grace and infinite serenity. Nothing seems to be disrupting this precious moment between the two. They seem to know each other like two people living under the same roof for a long time would. This is probably a scene that’s repeated each day, at the same time and at the same place.
The table, on which the black velvet kitten is sitting, is made of a uniform brown wooden shade. In fact, the palette of all the objects are monochrome; golden for the bowl, copper for the small jar and light blue for the back wall. The only fanciful detail of the scene is the lady’s patterned dress.
The lady’s face is pale, except from scatters of bright rose in all the right places. Reminiscent of a porcelain doll, her cheeks and her lips are red rose and her black lashes hide probably the most sumptuous eye color that no one has ever had. The lady’s kindness and patience come across well on the canvas. Her aura manifests by the blue hue whirlpool, barely definable around the careless bun she has created to frame her angelic diamond shaped face.
As I stare and contemplate the scene, I imagine her quickly and unexpectedly opening her eyes and having a completely opposite reaction to what I have been describing above. She gets mad, throws the jar at the wall and scares the kitten away. How can I expect only the worse from this painting? Something is off; the calmness seems to hide an unknown and unpredictable facet.