The Tiger: Revisited
My grandson was less than thrilled with the Tiger I painted for him this past November. He didn’t like the colors. “Tigers don’t have pink and blue,” he said. (And he especially doesn’t like pink!) “What colors should I paint him?” I asked. “Orange, black and white.” Oh, OK.
New Tiger in my studio. Watercolor on paper mounted to aluminum panel.
Here’s the new tiger, just finished in my studio. I got rid of the obvious pinks but I couldn’t resist adding other colors to bring the tiger to life. On this painting, I juxtaposed pinks against flashes of oranges, golds and yellows to enhance the fur on top of his nose. I placed blues, lavenders and greens to distinguish white fur in shadow and partial shadow versus sunlight.
I love this piece and was hoping my grandson would as well despite all the colors that “aren’t supposed to be there.” On the big reveal, he liked it despite the errant green he was quick to point out. Thank goodness he didn’t notice the pinks and blues so much. Whew!!! A big relief for me. I asked, “If the tiger had a name, what would it be?” “Heart.” “Why heart?” “Because he has a heart on his right cheek,” he said. Oh! That was a surprise to me. I hadn’t noticed it.
It’s interesting when I do multiple pieces within a given genre, I become more aware of my subject and how to express it with my materials. The second time around with this tiger, I was much more attuned to the texture of his fur which is the star of the show (along with his penetrating eyes, of course). I was also more attentive to the effect of light and shadow on the colors of the tiger and surroundings.
First Tiger on left; the new Tiger on right. Both watercolor on paper mounted to aluminum panel.
As I’m immersed in the creative process, my mind wanders….
In this case, I caught myself pondering the idiom, “A tiger doesn’t change its stripes.” More specifically, I was reflecting on how the idiom relates to the ubiquitous rise in Jew hatred post-October 7.
The connection with post-October 7 coming-out-of-the-woodwork anti-Jew sentiment, we know all too well from our past. Sadly in this regard, I fear “A tiger doesn’t change its stripes.”
Interestingly, as I’m writing this post, I’m reflecting on how this idiom relates to my Jewish identity.
I’ve learned, embedded at the core and essence of who I am, is an actual challenge to rise above my tiger-like/ego involved physical and instinctive nature. I’m called to change my stripes — to be conscious of and guided by Divine truths as passed down through Jewish tradition.
This, I believe, is at the essence of who I am — my Jewish identity — an identity that calls me to harness my inner jungle of thoughts and emotions for a higher good in my behaviors. In this way, I believe this tiger can absolutely and emphatically change its stripes.