I don't know why I still get surprised when I try and draw horses and it's just really goddamn difficult.
Anyway, this one is for a childhood memory of spending all day with my best friend making clover chains to put on our horses. She had a brown-and-white paint who used to bolt hills and run under trees, but was otherwise pure sweetness, and I had a red-chestnut named Mohawk, who had a sun-bleached mane, and couldn't put a foot wrong if he tried.
It's also for the recent realisation that if I can call that particular memory my own, I was granted a very, very special life.
I love this illustration <3
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that I read this post, this early morning here in Wyoming. I am horse crazy all over again these days. Your sketch is lovely and the realization, too.
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