The artist within and the inspiration from a magnificent creature, the horse!

I am 4 or 5 years old. Its a warm, humid Ohio summer day. I am riding a bus with my older sister to a summer day camp. Shaker Day Camp, to be exact. A magical place that has everything a kid would want to do. Swimming, boating, arts and crafts, and archery (I had to grow a bit before they would give me a bow and arrow!) and Horses! The camp had at least 30 horses, it seemed. I was so mesmerized by the size and beauty of each and every one of them. But the thing that got me most was the feeling I got when you looked deep into their eyes. It was like they were as intrigued by me as I was by them. The connection was like kindred spirits. The mythical creatures I only heard about from the neighbors next door were right in front of me, and it felt like I knew them deeply. I would run away from my group of kids and make my way back to the barn. I would run my hands over their skin to keep the wonderful smell on me. I wouldn't want to wash it off when I got home. I wanted to keep Calypso, Pirate, and Plum Pudding close to me until I could get back tomorrow. If I was missing from my group, they all knew to just check the barn or the fence of the pastures!

Since I was so enamored with the horses, I started to draw them. I never got discouraged with how the drawing looked at first. Of course, skill is developed, but it came faster than I thought. I credit the absolute love I had to give me the ability to pay close attention to what I saw and the shapes and definitions of their bodies and train my hand to my eye. It never felt like work or that I couldn't do it. I just kept on. Then I wanted art supplies!

Look at that face. Do I look happy or what? Even a fake horse will do!

Below are my Appaloosa and Quarter Horse. And a little foal from a visit to a stable in Arizona. Yes, I was a young girl when I had my horses. Now I am much older, but I haven't lost that love.

I follow the plight of the American Mustangs and their right to be protected and exist as the icons they are. I am thankful for the amazing people that document the herds in the wild and the horse rescues out there that save them and give them forever homes.

I had my Appy while I lived in Ohio. I had him at the school I attended in Willoughby, Ohio. The trails were magical in all four seasons in Ohio. I learned a lot with my first horse, as do we all. I read every book I could, so I would take the best care of them. I was lucky enough to have my Quarter Horse in my backyard in California. I lived in Rolling Hills Estates, California, on the Palos Verde Peninsula. This was the last bastion of country and open spaces left in Los Angeles. The Penninsula had, I believe, 240 miles of horse trails woven around its canyons. It was a great place to live. I was so lucky! I have so many stories of adventures there. Riding to the beach and getting chased off by the lifeguards was always fun! Golfers didn't like me so much!

I try to express the bond between horses. They are highly sensitive animals with deep ties to one another. They feel everything. You can't fake it around a horse. They know what you are feeling. They feel your heartbeat.

Sorry for the long read; I just had to include bits and pieces, and that adds up! I hope the New Year brings you much joy and long wished-for experiences. To be continued later... Peace and love to the world.