And all I could see was a galloping horse


Painting is more than just a physical exercise. It requires perseverance, focus, it demands time and dedication. It requires that you continue to try even after it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. And then, sometimes life gets in the way, in fact, the normal daily requirements of life take me away from painting constantly. That’s why so many famous painters are men, they have wives and mothers who take care of the minutae of life. Most women are not so lucky.

I have been away from painting for a while because of a major life event, my beloved partner, husband,  and friend of 34 years  passed away on July the 18th. Since then I have found solace in mindless chores, but there are only so many of them that I can do without feeling my muse scolding me, pulling me back in. As my first attempt at painting once more,  I choose the horse, a creature I have used for inner symbolism for almost 40 years of my life to carry me back into the realm of being a painter.  Over the years I have found that the horses I draw carry my mood; happiness, sadness, tiredness, excitement.  Many times I do not even realize what I am doing and there is suddenly a horse on the paper, brought to life by a few lines.

The horse is fiery but timid, bold but skittish; a huge, muscular creature that moves with energy and grace.  This horse is a symbol of taking on life on life’s terms, and not looking back.

This painting is done with Caran D’ache Watercolor pencils and watercolors. It measures 11″ x 15″ and is for sale, $150.00

,

5 responses to “And all I could see was a galloping horse”

  1. So sorry to hear of your sad news. And when it’s your partner, it must be the hardest of traumas. We artists are lucky to have our art to comfort us. Glad to see you’re finding solace in your old friend, the muse. My sympathies.

  2. Dear Mimi, I’ve thought of you and your loss ever since you commented on one of my blog postings and said that your husband had died. I’m relieved to know that you are painting again and that your muse–the horse–is with you. Peace.

Leave a Reply