Since the day my daughter was able to walk, she ran. When she was able to run, she flew. In her day-to-day world she is a hawk, mountain lion, tiger, jaguar, snow leopard, or a bull. Her imagination soars, and whichever animal suits her mood on that particular day, wins. But, on most days, she is a horse. Going by names of Apple, Pepper, or Candy, she gallops down the side of the dirt road as fast as she can while giving out a few whinnies, neighs, or snorts while kicking up dust in her wake. I wonder if my daughter ever catches me looking at her with extreme love or admiration – I hope so. She is full of wonder – she is a wild spirit. My family is fortunate to live just four doors up from a horse boarding stable, so when we moved to our current house in 2012, we started visiting the horses on our daily walks. We bring baby carrots or apples from our apple trees to feed the horses. If we don’t have any snacks at home, the kids love to pick the long grass just outside of the horses reach by the weathered wooden fence. When we leave to continue on our walks, my daughter always chooses a horse to hug – her love for them evident. For my daughter’s 8th birthday I told her I’d paint her a picture of anything she wanted. Without hesitation, she picked a photo I had taken of her and one of her favorite horses. A horse that she had affectionately named Taffy. Taffy is a beautiful buckskin mare with a sweet disposition. I had taken the photo with my phone on one of our walks about a month before her birthday, and without her knowledge. I loved that my daughter had Taffy in her arms as she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. I loved that Taffy stood still for as long as my daughter wanted to hold her. I loved that their hair was blowing in the warm summer breeze. I loved that my daughter’s brows were furrowed with strong feeling. I loved that Taffy’s ears were alert and happy, while her eyes were content and warm. I loved that they seemed connected for the moment – wild spirits. How on Earth could I paint this special photo? Could I do it justice? I needed to try. It took me a few weeks after her birthday party to start the actual painting – I was nervous. I had never painted a person, and horses are not easy to draw or paint. I wanted the painting to convey the feelings that I knew were behind this moment. In preparation for the painting, I read books on painting portraits and figures, I watched YouTube videos of artists painting skin, hair, and horses, and I studied my photo. My first step was to sketch out the photo on my watercolor paper. A simple background was the first paint to be laid on the paper. I didn’t use any detail in the background because I wanted the viewer’s eye to be drawn to the detailed figures only. From there, I painted the face because I figured that if the face didn’t turn out right, I could easily start over without wasting too much time or paint. Satisfied with the face, I continued on to the hair and the horse. My daughter had snapped the picture above while I painted the horse. I must have been zoned in on my painting as I found a surprise on my phone a few days later. My favorite part of painting animals is painting their eyes. I feel that if a good eye can be painted – the rest of the animal will fall into place. After a few days of painting, I was happy with the look of the sunshine on my daughter’s hair, the shine on Taffy’s coat, the way the highlights and shadows made the facial curves just right, the soft look of the muzzle, the sparkle in Taffy’s eye, the windswept hair, the course-looking texture of the mane, and the wrinkles in my daughter’s shirt. My daughter’s 8th birthday painting was finished – it’s one of my favorites. Wild Spirits is the name that came to mind when I looked at this painting. My daughter wholeheartedly approved. My daughter said that she loved the horse’s eye, how their hair was flowing in the wind, and all the details of the painting. I love that my daughter’s feelings of love, passion, connection, and yearning are evident. Happy 8th birthday, my dear daughter! May your wild spirit live on forever.
horses
“Home”: Watercolor Wednesday
Spending a week or two at my great-aunt and uncle’s farm every summer is one of my fondest memories. Waking up each morning to the sun shining in the upstairs farmhouse window, playing in the open fields, caring for the horses and ponies, and enjoying delicious homemade food made it a little girl’s dream, but the best was just being around my great-aunt and uncle. Both were happy, loving, and gentle people – the kind that everyone liked to be around. But, this post is dedicated to my great-uncle. The man you see below with that fantastic smile – a smile he wore often. My great-uncle was the one responsible for igniting my horse passion. He taught me how to care for his horses and ponies – feeding, brushing, and spraying the coat to repel flies. He also taught me how to saddle up Danny (the pony I learned to ride on), adjust the stirrups, and control the reigns. It takes a patient kind of pony to let a learning child take control. From the awkward first saddle tightening to letting me braid his mane into several dozen braids (tying each of them with red ribbon) – Danny was just as patient as my great-uncle. My great-uncle sure loved his horses and ponies, but he also loved his tractors. At about the same time my great-uncle trusted me to take Danny for a ride on my own, my great-uncle talked me into driving his tractor for the first time. I remember the gentle, yet thorough, explanation of how to work the tractor. I also remember his giant belly laugh as I lurched the tractor forward in a not-so-smooth manner. My eyes must have been the size of saucers. My great-uncle urged me to go faster – so I did. He laughed the entire time I was on that tractor. Not ceasing until I parked it back in front of him – relieved, but safe. A few years ago, I was up visiting my great-aunt and uncle, and my great-uncle was proud to show me his tractor that he had restored so perfectly. The 1950 Ferguson TO-30’s gray paint was flawless, and its low rumble continued without a hitch. He even had a small replica of the exact tractor wrapped up in a small blanket and placed safely into a small compartment under the hood – that smile of my great-uncle’s never faltered. That was one of the last times I would see him. My great-uncle passed away this past winter, but he wasn’t alone. Just two days before he passed, Danny, his pony, passed away too. I believe God had a hand in that one. I picture them both in the country – my great-uncle on his tractor and Danny in a field of long grass. After attending my great-uncle’s funeral, and learning of Danny’s passing, I felt the need to paint a picture for my great-aunt – one that I hope will make her smile for years to come. Here is my great-uncle and Danny at “Home”:
It’s a Small World: Another Horse Connection
Last week I wrote about the special connection between horses and humans. That particular piece was one of the most difficult to start. How do I put a lifetime of passion and memories in one post? But, after I gathered pictures, picked out memories that meant the most to me, and chose a few of my great-grandfather’s horse stories to share, there was no stopping the words from spilling out onto the page. The connections that were found between the generations of my family and the love we have had for horses for over a hundred years was heartwarming and eye-opening at the same time. However, these connections were not the only ones discovered – another connection was uncovered this past week thanks to the following photo: In this picture a four-year old version of myself can be seen riding a pony at a friend’s birthday party. Do you see the man with the sweet cowboy hat on? He ended up coming into our lives some 30 years later. I didn’t make this connection until I dug up this picture to use in my horse story last week. Our Home My family and I moved into our current home almost five years ago now. We were thrilled to find a place that was just 20 minutes from downtown St. Paul and Minneapolis, but made us feel like we were living in the country. The lot we live on is large enough to have nice-sized perennial gardens, hold our 12 raised-bed vegetable gardens, and keep our free-range chickens happy and chatty. Four doors down from our house is a horse boarding stable, so we walk to visit our friends almost every day. And, much to our delight, we quickly found out that our next-door neighbors have ponies come to stay with them every summer. Why? It’s quite simple – our neighbors have a large lot so they have a friend’s ponies come over to keep the grass in the pasture under control throughout the summer. This friend, I’ll call Joel for privacy’s sake, lives just down the road from us, so he stops by every day to spray the ponies with fly repellent and give them treats. Naturally, my family and I flock to the ponies every summer. We feed them long grass by hand, and when the apples on our apple trees ripen in the fall, the ponies delight in the crisp, sweet treat. Two summers ago I came up with a great idea – yes, it does happen once in awhile, believe it or not. Joel One day, as Joel was over taking care of his ponies, I asked him if he would be willing to bring a pony over to our house for my daughter’s fourth birthday. My daughter has always been completely crazy about horses. She decorates her bed with stuffed horses, plasters her walls with horse pictures, and visits the horses in the neighborhood on a daily basis. Going to see the horses is like brushing teeth for her – a habit. A surprise pony ride would be a dream for her. Joel was more than willing to come and surprise my daughter, and he actually seemed just as excited as I was at this prospective event. I had a sneaking suspicion that Joel had done this before. More on this later. On my daughter’s birthday, it’s easy to say that she was in utter disbelief when a pony started walking up the driveway. I remember her screaming “IT’S BUTTONS!” She knew Buttons well since this pony spent most of the summers in our neighbor’s backyard. The smile that washed over my daughter’s face was beautiful. Quick note – Do you see those cowgirl boots with the pink trim? That girl wore those boots each and every day for two years. She only stopped wearing them because she could no longer scrunch her feet into those beloved boots. Needless to say, we have the boots in her memory box because neither mom nor daughter could part with them. Anyway, my daughter rode the pony for a good hour the day of her birthday before… …bringing her brother on a ride that was just as long. Everyone, including Joel, had smiles on their faces throughout the evening. Success all around! Last week, as I was rummaging through old photos for my horse post, I noticed a similarity between the man in the sweet cowboy hat in my old picture, and Joel. The man sure looked like Joel, but could he be? The hats they wore seemed similar. Maybe the nose too. Had we crossed paths 30-some years ago? The Connection Yesterday I was out mowing the grass in the backyard when I saw Joel pull up in the neighbor’s driveway. I jumped off the lawn tractor, ran up to the house to grab my old picture, and sprinted back down to the horse pasture. “Hi, Joel!” I yelled. He responded with “Well, hello there!” When I reached him, I said, “Joel, this may seem crazy, but is this you in this picture?” He looked and exclaimed “Well, would you look at that! That’s my hat, and my mustache.” He looked at me, pointed at the picture and asked “Is that you?” “Yes,” I replied, “I was at my friend’s birthday part, and four-years old at the time.” He smiled and said “It’s a small world! That’s Sugar you are sitting on. She was a great pony. Oh goodness, thank you so much for sharing this picture with me.” Joel and I ended up sharing horse stories for at least a half an hour. I told him about my favorite horse memories, my parent’s farm, and my great-grandfather’s stories about Rowdy, his horse. Joel told me about growing up on a farm that was located very close to where we currently live, and how his grandfather bought him his first horse when he was 15 years old. Joel named his horse Charity because he liked to share the horse with
The Horse: Why Do They Continue To Capture Our Hearts?
What is it about horses that capture the hearts of young children and adults alike?