My Journey
I have been working since I was three. I have been an artist for 26 years, beginning my journey in 1978 at art school, where I majored in photography while also exploring various artistic forms. Recently, I have shifted my focus to conceptual art after overcoming challenges with medication that hindered my creativity. After reducing my do
I have been working since I was three. I have been an artist for 26 years, beginning my journey in 1978 at art school, where I majored in photography while also exploring various artistic forms. Recently, I have shifted my focus to conceptual art after overcoming challenges with medication that hindered my creativity. After reducing my doses of Zyprexa and Lithium, I have found the freedom to express myself boldly once again.
I was taught not to feel pain. When I was three I stuck my thumb in a rabbit trap that Dad had taught me to set. The thumb was black so mum showed dad. He was so proud of me because I didn’t cry!
At the same age Tinkerbell my horse kicked me in the stomach so I kicked her back. Again dad was so proud because I didn’t cry.
Roots in Rural Life
My upbringing on my family's cattle property in the Hunter Valley profoundly influences my work. From the ages of 3 to 17, I experienced the complexities of rural life, which shaped my artistic voice. I was fortunate to receive a teacher’s scholarship to study Art at the University of Newcastle, where I learned to channel my feelings and emotions through my art. I use writing and visual expression as outlets to share my childhood pain with the world and my psychiatrists.
Hello
Mum lied about University Cat the Artist ©2025
Thursday, February 8, 2024
Letter to my friend:
You asked today if my Mother was proud of me becoming a teacher.
Well she wasn’t! She never said she was proud of me ever.
What happened was:
About 10 years after becoming a teacher my younger sister said she was told by my Mother that I had used all
Dad killed my Cats © 2025 Cat the Artist
$300 (photograph, postage - shipping included)
Size: A4
Dad killed my Cats © Cat the Artist 2025
Dad killing my cats is the worst thing that Mum did to me. I briefly think about it every day. I loved cats they comforted me. I have Ben now he reincarnated from that horrible time. My Personal Assistant believes I have worse stories to tell but they will be in my memoirs not my website.
When I was 13 my mother got Dad to shoot my cats because I loved them and she wanted me to hate Dad because she was jealous. I can’t prove this but I feel it is true from how mum treats me. But it is fact from my mother’s mouth that she got Dad to kill the cats, including Ben. She told me that she asked Dad to kill the cats. Later I cried my heart out but I wasn’t comforted at all. We had 15 outside cats for the rats, not pets. As a child I was very distressed. I would smuggle one into bed for comfort. But with telepathy mum knew straight away and would come and throw it outside.
During my year long stay at ‘Bending Creek” as an adult after the breakdown she told me that Dad said to her that she had turned us girls against him. When she said that I knew what she had done. I thought to myself yes you did you bitch! Of course I couldn’t talk back to mum or I would get hit and punished. (This is why my story is like Flowers in the Attic. When I read the book I knew I had been there.)
When I was 27 and went to England and met some relatives. This was after Dad died when I was 23. I learnt another side of Dad rather than the one mum had painted. She told me he was an untreated schizophrenic and alcoholic, someone to be scared of. My Dad was really close to his sister Joan who died of breast cancer in her 30s. Leaving four children. She died before I was born. Dad was heart broken. They used to go on horseback rides to picnics at midnight over the cattle property hills and that they loved each other. So romantic I thought. No one had ever told me that story.
Cat the Artist
I think the world is fair to me It’s just Mum that isn’t fair to me. She’s my biggest block. In the country people would say your poor Dad not having any sons. He had four daughters and because of that people felt sorry for him.
When I pat Ben and get comforted by Ben I think of Mum getting Dad to kill all my cats when I was 13. Sometimes he lies on top of me. Ben is the reincarnation of Ben. I texted my personal assistant about it and she texted back that Ben was safe! That reassured me and helped me. But I need help from my psychologist about this issue. It’s a recurring fear.
When we were in our 30s Debra lived in 3 story terrace in Glebe, Sydney. She had quite a few enemies and they spray painted swear words in red paint on her house: slut, cunt, whore. We found her cat strangled, it’s neck broken on the pavement in front of her house. It wasn’t in a car accident, someone had wang it’s neck on purpose. I’ve never seen anyone mourn so much as Debra. She was so upset. At home we weren’t allowed to mourn that much there was too much work to do. Her teenage daughter and I were there with her. I let her rock and cry for about an hour and I wrote a poem for her cat. I got her up from the floor and said we were going to bury the cat in the back yard now and I was going to say the ulergy . This helped her. After I think of Dad shooting my cats I think of Debra’s cat. I have a vague fear of someone taking a dislike to spiritual belief and killing my animals.( It’s happened before) My spiritual belief in the sun and reincarnation helps me!
Mike, my psychologist said what happened to Debra’s cat is rare which helped me because I have heard of stories of people having their dogs bated in the back yard.
Recently mum told me, not to the 13 year old but after my breakdown Dad killed Ben because he had a tooth ache. None of our animals went to the vet. I got internally really angry because Dad could drink a bottle of expensive scotch a day and he couldn’t afford to take Ben to the vet!!!!!In a way that excuse was worse than no reason at all!
I have suicided five times at my mother’s hands. I can’t be alone with her or talk on the phone. She is just too nasty with me without a witness. Mike, my psychologist said to see her as a distant Aunt that you have nothing in common with. He said don’t tell her any of your business. The leader of Mental Health Support Group drives me two hours every two months. He chats small talk with her, he’s good at that. I sit quietly for 50 minutes pretending I’ve been drugged by the hospital and I can’t talk much. That’s what she has always wanted. She is happy.
Art Work to come
Cat Reincarnation Tile for My Funeral Monument © Cat the Art
I'm not scared of dying, just not getting three memoirs, a play & a movie finished to save the slave children on cattle properties in Australia. I have died many times! I belief in reincarnation. So do the Aboriginal people.
A4 photo of ceramic tile $300 (includes postage)
No to coal ($585 millions) Yes to Art (Conceptual Art Work)
$300 (photograph, postage - shipping included)
Size: A4
My half-brother has $585 million and I had a breakdown from teaching and working on the cattle property and my step-father refused to give him a letter asking for much needed money for my Art. Around 2019 at the family cattle propert
Discover the Art of Cat the Artist
No food or water for six hours by ©Cat the Artist 2025
To: My former Psychologist
Thank you for saving my life as regards to my mother. My (Psychiatrist) says you do care about me!
However I have to leave you today. I want to tell you man to man, just so you know.
No food or water for six hours by ©Cat the Artist 2025
Friday, March 28, 2025
City people take life for granted. When we were children riding horses and doing cattle work we couldn’t eat or drink for say six hours. Because we were so scared of our father to stop. You act like that’s acceptable.
From a dawn breakfast (Dad would drag me out of bed in the dark) to a late lunch (big baked dinner) working for 6 hours, doing without made me so nervous. As an adult I carry water at all times. If I forget I lose it! Because I was so nervous about my abuse I would drink and smoke two packets of cigarettes a day to escape from my controlling parents. Now I have to ease the stress I feel by sucking sugar free mints all the time for the last 10 years like I used to smoke.
I also have to carry lip balm everywhere or I panic and apply it regularly because as children we would have scum on our lips from the scourging Australian heat.
In my childhood we had to work so much we only went to see one movie, Dr Do Little at Scone Cinema. I’m giving myself a treat today for fun. I’m going to see “Becoming Led Zeppelin” the movie. I found my cure without you and stupid drugs that kill me eg my kidneys! A simple treat helped me. Why didn’t you think of a solution. (Psychologist) You aren’t very creative. I took myself off to the movies to learn about fame.
$300 (photograph, postage - shipping included)
$6,000 - Original. One off.
Size: A4
However I can’t stray too far from work to make my Art and writing. To reincarnate you have to be famous. Ask any pharaoh!
When my mother dies I will be allowed to be famous. I’ll soar with freedom! I’ll get on the media and TV. The world will find out the secret of country living. I chose this movie because I wanted to see what made them famous. So I can become famous too. It was two songs: “Stairway to Heaven” and “Whole Lotta Love”. Led Zeppelin got famous because they were white men doing what they wanted to do just like Dad! I always knew I was nervous because of my parents’ abuse but I didn’t pin point it to one cause until when I texted you recently. The penny dropped. I needed help from you. Why didn’t you give me appropriate help? Mike when you responded so tersely I felt you didn’t care, when you wanted to off load me to my psychiatrist who was on leave I felt you were jealous. You said: “If you’re feeling very stressed I suggest you contact psychiatrist and he might be able to review your medication” Simeon was on leave and in my case medication isn’t the answer. It destroys my creativity and clarity, destroys my health & kidneys.When I go to Asian massage I have to have water, mints and lip balm in reach around my head or I freak out. They don’t understand my language. I shout at them that I need mints etc because I’m very stressed. I don’t go to them anymore. Last week I went to the free Women’s Centre. I saw a masseuse and councilor in one. She understood my need not like you. She suggested hypnosis. I want to try it. In the past I gave you a story about telepathy from my childhood. Mike is an atheist and scientific in his approach he doesn’t understand me very well. I wrote about I Dream of Jeanie who had magic power but men didn’t allow her to use it. Because she was a woman and men dominate. Mike doesn’t believe me or care for me. He thinks I don’t know what I’m talking about because of my belief systems that protect me. I went to my GP & she told me about a hypnotist. I have a half hour free video call with her next week.