Meet the artist
Mya Vincent is a self-taught Minnesota artist intent on bringing authenticity and laughter into every day. She holds two Bachelors of Science in Mathematics and Statistics, and a passion for incorporating cats into regular objects and scenes. Mya is represented by the Stillwater Art Guild Gallery, and her original paintings can be found in private collections across 27 different US states, and 5 countries. Mya primarily works with acrylic paint on canvas. She draws much of her inspiration from her friend, Susan’s foster cats, and seeks to pair everyday scenes with the cute (and ridiculous) moments that cats inspire.
When I was a kid, I used to get bored in class and stare at the water stains on the ceiling. I would stare so long that the stains would begin to look like monsters. I had a habit of doing that, finding creatures in inanimate objects. Stumps looked like foxes. Lint looked like rollie-pollies. I had all this time in childhood, and my brain loved to merge different ideas together.
In adulthood, it’s been harder to take the time to find those strange creatures in the water stains. My attention is grabbed by social media, my job, bills, paying my car payment, paying rent, crying in therapy, walking my dog…the list could go on forever.
Sometimes the world feels so overwhelming that I want to curl up in a ball and let my body ooze into the sidewalk cracks. In these moments, I often drag myself to my friend Susan’s apartment, and I sip tap water on her cream couch. Susan’s couch is huge. It’s one of those big sectionals where there is enough room to cry and crack jokes, to dream, to fall apart, to learn, and to sleep three people.
There is also enough room for her cats. She fosters them. Right now she has Tony and Otto, but before that there was Neville, Radish, Cucumber, Dumpling, Texas Toasts, Darla, Drafis, Dixon, and Destiny. When I was crying on the couch, the cats would be catapulting themselves around the room to chase a toy. During Susan and I’s darkest conversations, the cats were licking their butts and chasing each other around the room. They broke up sadness with laughter. They created a duality of joy and amusement when the world felt so serious. Through disappointing first dates, metro-surge, job changes, and heartbreak, there was always friendship and cats.
Cats remind me that the world is bigger than just my experience, and that there are playful moments to cherish everyday. When I started painting cats I began seeing wonderful things all over the place. I stared at the cakes in the deli isle because they looked like fluffy cats. Sometimes an over-easy egg yolk oozed over my toast just like how Neville would stretch in his cat bed. Glaciers were no longer ice masses, they were fluffy kitties! Through the power of friendship, foster cats, and a bit of optimism, I’ve found a muse that feels authentic to my favorite parts of myself and my life.
There is magic (and cats) everywhere I look.
— Mya Vincent
The Unraveling of the Bathroom Experience, 2026
