Break Glass
(2026) 11 x 16” (28 x 41 cm)
In the CatmaSutra universe, the greatest crisis is the loss of wonder. Crayons stand for unfiltered expression; milk for simple pleasures a busy life teaches us to overlook. The curled-up cat is already at peace inside the emergency.
While “Break Glass” insists on urgency, the cat holds a private Zen. Childhood, once misplaced, rarely announces its departure. Growing up does not have to mean growing out of imagination, softness and play. Sometimes the most important things are meant to be broken open..
Before the Leap (1 of 3)
(2026) 18 x 24” (46 × 61 cm)
The cat stands at the edge of the pool, completely at ease. Above him, a koinobori rises into the sky, as though the feeling inside has simply grown too large to contain.
There is no fear, hesitation or expectation — just the easy pleasure of being there, ready for whatever happens next. This is childhood before we learn to overthink: when the possibility of a leap feels less like a challenge and more like fun.
Song of the Carp (2 of 3)
(2025) 30 x 30” (76 x 76cm)
Somewhere past the edge, the leap already happened. The cat moves through rolling waves with it, shamisen in hand, playing as it goes. Behind, a daruma watches, patient and unmoving, the way old promises watch over new adventures.
There is no destination here, only the ride itself — music carried across water, waves met with a song instead of a struggle. The daruma asks nothing and says nothing; its stillness is its own kind of company, the quiet certainty that whatever tips or rocks will, in time, right itself again. Rising with the waves and moving on, radiant precisely because it doesn’t ask to last.
What the Water Remembers (3 of 3)
(2026) 18 x 24” (46 × 61 cm)
The koinobori returns as something soft and familiar — a worn chou chou that once meant safety. The cat carries it like a surfboard, while waves trace the shape memory takes as it moves.
Somewhere between childhood and now, routines took the place of that comfort, and the trust it once held got quietly buried under all the ways we learned to cope instead. But it never actually left. Carried like this — used, not kept on a shelf — it still holds what it always held: permission to trust the water, to want nothing more than something familiar underfoot.
Just five more minutes
(2026) 14 x 18” (36 x 46cm)
A cup noodle becomes a five-star sanctuary: steam turns it into a private sauna, a radish becomes a bathhouse towel, and the cup becomes a world unto itself where time is measured only by the softening of a noodle.
A celebration of childhood’s instant joy — reminding us that the most profound relaxation doesn't require a destination, only a bit of imagination and a hot cup of comfort.
We Forget Time
(2026) 14 x 18” (36 x 46cm)
Where is “now” actually going? Perhaps there was never anywhere for the present to go.
The cat pauses mid-journey to talk to a pigeon (time), while a Jezebel butterfly (change) settles on his hiking stick — fleeting beauty, caught in suspension. The destination waits. The moment does not need to.
This is the instinct every child knows and every adult unlearns — to wander, interrupt the walk, and follow a passing moment without apology. Freedom was never in reaching the destination faster — it was in the small, unnecessary pauses childhood insisted on keeping.
A Thread of Wonder
(2026) 14 x 18” (36 x 46cm)
The porcelain world blooms into a flower, and the flower blooms into the cat’s world — one dream folding into the next, no seam between them. Its blue-and-white pattern drifts past the vase, into the wind, into the blossoms, into the cat’s own sleep.
A wooden spinning top rides the wind, tethered by a thin thread to the sleeping cat’s paw — not holding it down, but holding two worlds together. What is inside is not separate from what is outside. To notice this is to remember something children never had to learn: that the two realities were never two at all.
Pinwheel
(2026) 14 x 18” (36 x 46cm)
Through a veil of cherry blossoms, we glimpse a small hidden world — a CatmaSutra cat holding a pinwheel that barely stirs in the breeze, a bird resting above, a butterfly settled trustingly on one paw.
The branches don’t fully part; they conceal as much as they reveal. What we catch is less a scene than a secret — a pocket of childhood still intact, still breathing, just out of reach.
Nothing here needs to move, prove, or defend itself. Perhaps some parts of childhood were never meant to be re-entered — only glimpsed, gently, through the gaps we still leave open.
One Breath, One wonder
(2026) 18 × 18" (46 x 46cm)
A hero conjured out of old wuxia serials — sword, flying scarf, kitsune mask askew — moves through the world on a mission quieter than conquest, carrying the old code of jianghu: not swordplay, but the discipline to do small things with total attention.
A vintage letterbox on his back launches paper planes — childhood’s memories and wishes, finally finding their way home. A letter once took days to arrive; that waiting was where the meaning lived. In his hands, a toy pipe holds a ball aloft on nothing but breath — no trick, no shortcut, just sustained attention.
What’s inherited isn’t the old objects, but the patience they demanded. Attention used to be the default. Now it’s the mission.
White Rabbit Candy
(2026) 18 × 18" (46 x 46cm)
The cat leaps into the ethereal, a sling bag shaped like a stick of white rabbit candy bouncing at his side, chasing a scampering crew of rabbits down the curl of a great wave. This is childhood at its most kinetic — motion for motion’s sake.
The candy’s rice-paper wrapper dissolves as it’s eaten, nothing left to save for later — just like this moment. In the adult world we run toward goals and destinations; here, the cat runs because running feels good. The rabbits dart through clouds marking the edges of a child’s imagination. Nothing is being chased toward a finish — it’s simply being had, then gone, like candy on the tongue.
Riding on Five Tales
(2026) 18 × 18" (46 x 46cm)
The cat rides atop a five-tailed kitsune, trotting from cloud to cloud, trusting the journey to hold what it needs to hold. There is no destination — only the pleasure of the journey.
The kitsune’s five tails hold memory, longing, dreams, play, and return — not stages to complete, but companions carried along the way. Growing up often gets mistaken for a race toward who we’re supposed to become. This piece resists that: to carry memory lightly, to long without losing the capacity for play, and to dream without needing to know where the journey leads. Nothing needs finishing. We are all still becoming.
Meow Balm
(2026) 18 × 18" (46 x 46cm)
A giant bottle of Meow Balm promises a simple remedy: curiosity, optimism, imagination and wonder.
Expiry date: never.
The joke is also the remedy. These are the qualities we may misplace as we grow older. There is no deadline on wonder — you simply have to reach for it.
Spring-Loaded
(2026) 18 × 18" (46 x 46cm)
The cat is suspended by a spring above a spinning pink vinyl record while rabbits leap just out of reach. The song loops; the chase loops with it. The cat was never meant to catch the rabbits. The point was the delight of the chase — the willingness to bounce to the same song for as long as it still feels good.
It asks whether childhood wonder is chased, or whether we’re already suspended inside it, held up by a tune we didn’t know we still remembered.
Brewed memories
(2026) 12 x 18” (30 x 46cm)
Freshly brewed. The cat cradles a kopi cup, traced with a flower motif that echoes the blooms in the sock; the sock that once strained coffee now nurtures what draws the butterflies. One thing grows out of another, the way a life does — what we love becomes what we chase, becomes who we are.
Steam drifts up to join hand-drawn clouds, until the line between the caffeine of adulthood and the wonder of childhood dissolves. Our sweetest memories aren’t always the ones we were given — often they’re the ones we learned, slowly, to love.
World Without Edges
(2026) 12 x 18” (30 x 46cm)
The cat rides a white rabbit into the night, where the borders between waking and dreaming dissolve. He doesn’t ask how far is too far — a rabbit becomes a vehicle, the sky becomes an ocean, and he simply goes.
What we lose growing up isn’t the ability to want something completely, but the willingness to disappear into it without hedging. World Without Edges invites you back — where passion isn’t rationed, and going all the way in is simply what you do when something has truly caught you.
Tending the Cloud
(2026) 12 x 18” (30 x 46cm)
This is what it looks like to tame a feeling rather than flee it: hang it up, let it dry in its own time, trust that it won’t stay heavy forever. From this careful holding, something unexpected emerges.
What once fell as rain drifts instead into moments of wonder, carrying lightness through the stillness like small living thoughts. Nothing here is rushed into feeling better; the cloud is simply given the time and gentleness it needs— sadness given somewhere to go, and something to become.
Perhaps this is what growing up can still offer, if we let it: to treat our own sadness with the softness a child receives by default — kept in something as delicate as a dessert bowl, until, with enough patience, it becomes something beautiful.
Nothing Much, Thank You Very Much
(2026) 12 x 18” (30 x 46cm)
Nothing here is reaching for anything. Not the cat, not the bird, not even the flowers. This is contentment doing nothing at all —
not resting up for the next thing, not pausing between tasks, just sitting because sitting is complete in itself. No destination waiting after. No productivity hiding underneath the stillness in disguise.
It’s simply a cat being a cat, a child being a child – just sitting and not resting from anything or for anything. Perhaps this is its own kind of wonder — not the wonder that chases or transforms, but the one that simply sits still long enough to notice it’s already there.
A Long Time Coming
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 12 × 12" (30 x 30cm)
The spring onion becomes a doorway to another moment, where a small paw reaches toward a fleeting butterfly — almost touching a time when we were simply ourselves.
Growing up takes us away from that place, but perhaps growing older can also bring us back to it. A return to the curiosity, wonder and quiet essence that was there all along.
Don’t Look
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 12 × 12" (30 x 30cm)
Behind a great half-peeled onion, the cat covers its eyes while a butterfly quietly passes by, a fleeting moment, whether we notice it or not. The cat covers its eyes in playful refusal—to hold on, just a little longer, to the world before it changes.
Growing up means gathering layers, much like an onion building itself ring by ring. Just as the onion carries the familiar memory of the kitchen—its layers being peeled away, the anticipation of food being prepared, and sometimes the tears that come with it— we arrive at the core, the self that was there before any of it was added. Here, something so ordinary becomes precious, illuminated by golden sparks.
Carried Away
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 12 × 12" (30 x 30cm)
The chai sim — humble, ordinary to the point of overlooked — becomes a basket: cradle and memory at once, proof that shelter doesn’t need to announce itself. Like the small domestic gestures of childhood, washed and cooked without ceremony, it quietly held us before we noticed we were being held.
Here the butterfly is simply arriving, in its own time, to a cat who isn’t chasing anything.
Time After Time
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 8 × 8" (20 x 20cm)
Green peas float through the air, suspended between the ordinary and the impossible.
Time doesn’t move away from childhood in a straight line — it circles back. Childhood returns in familiar tastes, small rituals, memories that surface unbidden, exactly when we’re finally ready to receive them.
Perhaps it was never something we lost. Perhaps it has simply been waiting for us, time after time.
Hide And Seek
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 8 × 8" (20 x 20cm)
A broccoli becomes a tree, and its florets a forest to disappear into.
Childhood needs so little to build a world—the freedom to imagine a place to hide, and be found only by wonder.
Perhaps wonder is a lot like hide and seek. Sometimes we lose it. Sometimes we go looking. And sometimes, if we look closely enough, it has been hiding there all along.
Happy Birthday
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 8 × 8" (20 x 20cm)
The cat sits between three asparagus spears —arranged like birthday candles on a cake. The transformation is deliberately absurd: Golden sparks gather around the florets, turning the vegetable into something celebratory.
Beneath the humour lies a quieter truth. A birthday marks another year gone — a reminder that childhood is precious precisely because it does not stay. To celebrate is to acknowledge passing. This painting does both at once.
Handle with Care
灶间童趣 / WHISPERS FROM THE KITCHEN
(2026) 8 × 8" (20 x 20cm)
The cat curls inside a pink, sparkling fruit foam net as though he himself were the precious cargo. A single leaf rests beside him, a trace of where he came from.
The net protects, but it also carries onward. Childhood is held carefully by those who love us, even as time quietly carries us toward somewhere new. Yet the leaf remains. Some part of where we came from stays with us, no matter how far we travel, or how carefully life wraps us for what comes next.
Snow Machine
(2025) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
Wearing a winter hat, the cat makes ice kacang while an old ice shaver anchors the scene in memory.
Snow falls in the tropics simply because a child once imagined it could. Ordinary syrup and shaved ice become flowers through attention and wonder. Childhood logic never needed the tropics and winter to agree.
Time to Play
(2025) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
The cat sits comfortably behind the slight opening of a Japanese screen painted with frolicking rabbits — watching, waiting, wearing the quiet satisfaction of someone whose trick is about to land. One rabbit obliges, leaping free of its painted world into the cat’s own, exactly as though the cat had planned it all along.
Time to Play suggests that wonder isn’t something that simply happens to us — sometimes it’s coaxed, invited, quietly staged by whoever still remembers how.
A Map of You
(2026) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
We inherit more than objects — words, songs, rituals, small acts of care, fragments of other lives that quietly become our own. Unnoticed while they were happening, they only become a map once there’s no one left to ask.
Here, the cat gathers these fragments: a father’s dictionary, a mother’s singing, a grandmother’s flowers, home-made bak zhang, a game of mahjong, the ordinary rituals of a childhood home. Together, they form a map of where we came from. We are, each of us, that map
The Sage of Six Bowls
(2025) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
The cat rests atop a stack of six bowls, drawn from Peranakan and vintage designs — ordinary vessels that once held countless everyday meals.
In Chinese symbolism, six suggests flow and harmony. Life moves the same way — through cycles of use and rest, fullness and emptying, one meal ending so the next can begin. The cat rests atop that same quiet rhythm, undisturbed by it.
Joy doesn’t need an occasion. It was always here, stacked in the ordinary things that fed us, cycle after cycle.
seal signature: 六碗猫贤
Woven Dreams
(2025) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
The cat rests in quiet communion as azure-winged magpies emerge from a porcelain vessel, like thoughts drifting between wakefulness and memory. Both cat and magpies wear matching soft blue trapper hats, as if belonging together were simply a given.
That’s how friendship worked as a child — no vetting, no small talk, just an instant shared trust. Through the simple ritual of sharing ice kacang, presence lingers long after the moment passes, settling softly into our dreams and quiet moments of reflection.
seal signature: 猫梦
Prosperity Suit: Tricolour — Return to Play
(2026) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
Dressed in a tricolour maneki-neko suit, the cat reveals the easy spontaneity that childhood carries without effort. Armed with quiet curiosity, light-hearted play, and a kopi tabao, he reminds us that prosperity can be found not only in symbols of luck, but in the warmth of shared presence and the familiar, half-forgotten pleasure of play for its own sake.
seal signature: 猫福
Prosperity Suit: Orange — Safe Journeys Home
(2026) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
The cat wears a vibrant orange maneki-neko suit, the colour of safe passage and smooth travels. Around him, curling clouds and drifting waves trace the looping arc of a yo-yo — playful, spontaneous, in no hurry to land anywhere.
Growing older adds distance and responsibility, but it doesn’t cancel the yo-yo’s simple logic: motion repeated purely for its own sake. That lightness was never something to outgrow — only easy to stop reaching for. Prosperity here is the looping back again, however far the journey has gone.
seal signature: 猫福
Charms
(2024) 24 x 30” (61 x 76cm)
Wind chimes and good-luck charms sway in the breeze — small things carrying an entire childlike spirit inside them: free, joyful, curious, completely present. The cat rests among flowers beside a Daruma, at ease, as if simply being near these charms is enough to borrow some of their lightness.
The closer we cycle back toward them, towards what already lives quietly inside us — the lovelier the journey becomes. Beyond the sweeping tree, the horizon opens where sea meets sky, a reminder of what opens up when we see the world the way a charm does.
Setting off
(2024) 30 x 30” (76 x 76cm)
Part of the Samurai Friday series, Setting Off celebrates a journey before the destination is known. The cat travels by boat through calm water and lotus flowers, guided by swallows beneath gentle rain.
Departure becomes an act of trust — moving without haste, in harmony with oneself. Every journey outward is also a journey within.
Going Home
(2024) 30 x 30” (76 x 76cm)
A companion to Setting Off, Going Home is a return not to a place left behind, but to the self that set out to find it. The cat returns by boat with a softly glowing lantern, while kingfishers rejoice around him.
The lantern becomes the light carried inward as much as forward. Home is not the destination — it is the moment the search settles, and we find our way back to ourselves.
A Flower for Tomorrow
(2024) 30 x 40” (76 x 102cm)
A black-and-white figure glances back over his shoulder- from old cartoons and comic panels, he was once a child imagined from the future, always looking ahead. Here, he turns back instead, like a memory catching up to itself.
Beside him, the cat holds a simple wire that becomes a flower — a small gesture, made from nothing but belief that the world could still surprise. From it, an entire world seems to bloom. In case we forget childhood, we do not need to go back. We only need to look again.
To go or to stay
(2025) 24 x 30 inches *SOLD
“To Go or To Stay” captures a quietly magical everyday moment with the cat seemingly in deep conversation with a visiting bird, chirping out an irresistible invitation for a round of coffee. The cat, already with a kopi tabao hanging from its shoulder, is deliberating whether to go or to stay.
The scene is light-hearted yet layered—blending the mundane with a dash of mischief and wonder. Is the cat on its way home, or is this a moment worth lingering in? The painting gently poses the question: do we rush ahead, or pause to savour the miracles hidden in everyday encounters?
In typical Catmasutra style, humour, charm, and quiet reflection meet in one whimsical tableau—reminding us that sometimes, the smallest detours offer the richest delights.
seal signature: 日常奇迹
Flow
(2025) 24 x 30 inches *SOLD
“Flow” captures the cat in mid-adventure as it rides the rolling ocean waves, leading a vibrant school of koinobori (carp streamers) in joyful procession. Each koinobori, traditionally a symbol of courage, perseverance, and aspiration, dances in rhythm behind the cat, swept forward by its unshakable presence and playful spirit.
Here, the cat isn’t just riding the wave—it is the flow. With effortless grace, it shows us that true leadership doesn't push or pull; it invites. The cat leads not by force, but by being fully attuned to the moment, allowing purpose and joy to carry everything forward.
"Flow" is a celebration of momentum, harmony, and self-trust—a whimsical reminder that when we move with presence and authenticity, the world follows.
Seal signature: 流
Nami Fox
(2025) 24 x 30 inches *SOLD
“Nami Fox” features the cat, eyes closed and grinning, riding a sweeping wave with a kitsune mask in paw and a playful cloud of pufferfish above. The kitsune mask symbolizes transformation and self-awareness, a reminder that wearing different faces is not deception, but a path to deeper self-awareness. The cat doesn’t wear the mask; it carries it, suggesting mastery over identity, not confusion within it. The pair of pufferfish, hovers like a cloud of unlikely guardians. It symbolizes hidden resilience and the ability to adapt—soft and odd at first glance, yet fierce when necessary. Their presence adds humor and protection, floating between the surreal and the symbolic.
The wave reminds us to flow with life rather than struggle against it. It is fluid yet rooted, arises from a rock like a sculpted vase of motion—a paradox of movement and stillness. It reminds us that true flow begins with grounded presence. We are not meant to carry the wave or fight it, but to become it—anchored, aware, and in harmony with life's ever-shifting tide.
Together, the scene is a celebration of surrendering control without losing intention. It invites the viewer to embrace transformation, to ride life’s momentum with presence, and to find lightness—even absurdity—in the journey.
Seal signature: 波
Cloud Lotus
(2025) 30 x 30 inches *SOLD
“Cloud Lotus” captures the essence of ease and presence. The cat nestles peacefully in the heart of a blooming white lotus, eyes gently shut and smiling in quiet bliss. Around it, soft lines of clouds float serenely, glowing in the early morning light—suggesting both stillness and movement, as if time itself has slowed to breathe.
Sparrows—symbols of freedom, simplicity, and cheer—flit and rest along the cloud lines, playing without a care, embodying the effortless joy of simply being.
The scene feels weightless, tender, and quietly uplifting.
A meditation on the joy of living lightly, this painting invites us to let go, float freely, and find grace in the present moment.
Seal signature: 存在之轻
Butterflies
(2024) 30 x 40 inches
Wings of whispered grace,
Symbol of joy and love’s dance—
Spring’s delicate kiss.
Beginnings
(2024) 24 x 36 inches
Mischievous joy stirs,
Kopi and roses swirling—
Laughter blooms with ease.
Victory
(2024) 30 x 30 inches
Vast sky holds our gaze,
Moments drift like passing clouds,
Fleeting yet they stay
Seasons
(2015) 36 x 36 inches
Improbable flakes,
Drifting down in warm embrace,
Whispers of surprise
Wonderful
(2015) 36 x 36 inches
This familiar love,
Moments loop like whispered dreams,
Time's echo lingers
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Harmony
(2024) 30 x 30 inches,
Yin and Yang entwine,
A play in the dark and light—
Heaven’s delight!
Lotus Blue
(2025) 30 x 30 inches
"Lotus Blue" captures a playful, joyful moment of remembered childhood. The cat peeks from the heart of a vibrant red lotus, eyes alight with curiosity, while blue tit birds dart through a flurry of petals, caught in a suspended moment of delight. At the center, the lotus seed pod quietly anchors the scene, a subtle reminder of life’s cycles and the gentle continuity of growth.
The painting evokes the carefree wonder of early years, where discovery is constant, joy is immediate, and even a small corner of the world can feel endlessly magical. Animals here are companions of imagination, playful witnesses to the lightness and curiosity of childhood.
Lotus story
(2024) 24 x 48 inches
At ease, soft winds hum,
Gentle touch of morning dew—
Delightfully yours
Bliss
(2024) 30 x 30 inches
Bliss wraps like soft dawn,
Serenity in each breath—
Smiles light up the day.
Levity
(2024) 24 x 30 inches
Freedom’s light touch,
Laughter dances on the breeze—
Boundaries dissolve.
Majestic
(2024) 30 x 30 inches
Majestic yellow,
Horizon meets the heavens—
Wonder paints the scene.
Spellbound
(2024) 30 x 30 inches
Spellbound by the stars,
Eyes spark in the cosmic dance—
Magic holds the night.
Sweet
(2024) 30 x 30 inches
Twin phoenixes rise,
Together in dawn’s embrace—
Sweet constellation.
Sunrise
(2024) 24 x 30 inches
New beginnings dawn,
Fresh hopes bloom with morning light—
Past and future blend.
Beginnings
(2024) 24 x 36 inches,
Mischievous joy stirs,
Kopi and roses swirling—
Laughter blooms with ease.
