20 x 16 in | oil finger painting on canvas

A black and white lionhead rabbit stands spooked at attention at the edge of a grassy abutment. His feathered tufts of long hair light up in the backlit glow of blue orbs, and his ears signal tension—he’s about to scurry away. His right side is lit by a warmer light source, casting an array of peach shadows on his white fur. The intersecting color palettes imply that he is between two worlds. The orbs of light are multi-dimensional Beings helping him transition to the upper-left portal of bright blue.

This rabbit, named Batman, lived under the care of my sister for ten years, which is an unusually long time for this breed. Nina and Batman were always together until he passed away in the winter of 2019. I painted him for her, as a monument to their relationship. He is painted just slightly larger than life size because his earthly existence was itself larger than life.

In his lifetime, Batman died twice (resuscitated each time by Nina giving him CPR), survived four car accidents, one fire, and countless close calls involving vicious dogs, bandits, and gas stations. As a certified emotional support animal, he could predict seizures, and fly free on airplanes. He had an aggressive appetite for chocolate, pizza, Cheez-Its, ice cream, and, occasionally, he would sneak sips of margaritas.

When he stayed at my house, he and Foxy would take turns chasing each other back and forth, like a scene from Looney Tunes. I believe that my sister’s will for him to live forever overpowered his natural life span. Batman the bunny was an extraordinary being who transcended the normal abilities of most living creatures and deserves to enter the realm of champions and heroes.