It has been a while since I wrote on here. I started this new painting journey and it took me away for a bit. I am back and I am still painting. That has been both fun and scary.
I try to relax when I create, otherwise, it becomes drudgery instead of joy. I want joy. So, recently I took on a project that was foreign to me. A young man commissioned me to paint him some paintings for his apartment based on what I saw already on his walls as his theme. He gave me the freedom to paint as many as I thought I should. I appreciated that because it meant less pressure on me. Artists like freedom.
I like and I want to view my life as not wasted. I want to soak up everything I can from whatever journey I am on at the time. Horses. The guy like horses. The last time I painted/drew an animal, a mountain lion/cougar, it looked like it had down syndrome. No offence toward anyone, please. It was bad. But I decided to learn to draw horses and create two paintings for him. What was I thinking? Why do I always go in deep? Good grief.
Well, It took me a while and I struggled with my lack of ability and nearly quit several times. But I hate to quit! By golly, this old gal will break the horse and he will come out looking good!
What happened was, a lightbulb came on one day and I saw that these paintings were for him. A weight lifted off of me when I realized this. It was then that I was able to draw the horses and finish the commissioned work and saw his smile when he received them.
For me, I found that the extra pressure of creating what someone else wants is my choice. However, doing this one took me into another level of confidence in my creativity. Will I do horses again? Right now I say no. But maybe might be more truthful.
Here is a sneak peek at what is hanging on someone’s wall…
Yesterday I met up with a friend who owns some beautiful horses. We went to meet them. These horses get to roam around and munch on fresh grass and hay and run. They have a great shelter and barn when the weather gets rough. They are very happy horses. The stallion was so calm and sweet. He amazed me.
I am sorry for the photo quality – camera batteries died so iPhone was it.
This little guy was my buddy. The bucket kept moving while he ate. So…..
…..he put his leg up to hold it still. He was the only one who figured that out.
I have the best memories of going to see the horses in the field across the street from our neighborhood. My dad would take my brother and I and I loved it. I was very young but those giant creatures with the deep intriguing eyes were calling me. My father would tell me that I had chestnut coloured hair just like the chestnut mare in the pasture. That meant the world to me.
My father passed away young but my brother would take me to the stables now and then. I loved it. The man who lived in the stables and cared for the horses was a kind man named Congo Jones. The only thing I feared were the Chinese chickens that seemed to run in circles absently. They were creepy.
I’ve only sat on a horse a few times in my childhood. I dreamed of riding. My favorite TV show was National Velvet. I use to ride my imaginary horse to the bus stop and tie her up to a bush until I got off the bus at the end of the day. If I walked with a friend I just “secretly” untied my horse and she walked behind me.
I never stopped dreaming of riding a horse (don’t worry, I gave up the imaginary one many years ago). And I want to tell you to never give up your dreams no matter how big or how small because at my age of 59 I met a young lady who offered to give me riding lessons in exchange for cooking lessons! Yes, it’s true. I had one lesson so far on the back of Pochantos and my friend learned to make lasagna. I can’t wait to get on that horse again. The smell of a horse barn is sweet to my senses and I want to learn it all. I’ll even clean a stall!
I believe that this thing I have for horses is a gift from God. Don’t give up, beautiful dreamer.