Oil - 12 X 12
One of the nicest memories I have of growing up in my blue collar neighborhood in Detroit was spending my "tween" and teen summers at the Michigan State Fairgrounds stables.
My friend Bonnie (still my BFF) and I would jump over the railroad tracks, shimmy under a particular length of fence surrounding the rear of the property and head over to the tack room. After we checked in, we ran over to the barn to shovel you- know- what and do general freshening up.
Our "payment" for doing this job was to saddle up and exercise the horses. The BEST part was that we were allowed to exercise the horses by riding them around the racetrack grandstands! Needless to say, many times I found myself limping home, but I never missed a day of
Fortunately, my daughter has inherited the "love of the horse" gene. Unfortunately, she has also inherited the "fall off the horse" gene. Still, she's always managed to get up and dust herself off.
One of my hopes for my daughter was for her to feel the timeless connection between horses and humans; to view horses as not only servants in war and peace, but as friends and teachers.
Thankfully she has felt that connection since the first time she rubbed her cheek against the velvet muzzle of a sweet horse.
What a gift.