Sometimes if we just put ourselves out there, the most amazing things can be ours to treasure.
As far as I know, at least from the era of horse racing legend Man O' War, if one had a way with horses here in Kentucky, they were referred to as having "The Magic." Today, this is usually referred to as one being a "horse whisperer."
Without a doubt, I knew there was Magic between my horses and I, but it wasn't until I met Secretariat, and shown in a very extraordinary way, I had Magic with other horses too. Even very famous ones.
Secretariat was indeed a racing legend, winning the 1973 Triple Crown of American horse racing, shattering records in all three of the Triple Crown races that year. However, it was the way he won the Belmont that made him a legend. He won by an astounding 31 lengths! It was unbelievable then, and still is now...for quite often horse races are won by noses and necks. Not an astounding 31 lengths!
After Secretariat retired from racing, he came to the beautiful Claiborne Horse Farm in Bourbon County Kentucky. Many MANY came to see him through the years before he became seriously ill in 1989, with the extremely painful hoof inflammation disease known as laminitis...and had to be put down. He had reached the point where he was really suffering, and no respectable farm wants that for legends or not. So at age nineteen, Secretariat galloped away leaving all who loved him in his dust.
Several years after he retired, a friend and I made the journey to see him one day. About twenty others were there too and we got in line. A semi-retired staff member was there to make sure all went well. And he needed to be there this day, for Secretariat did not appear in the mood to have visitors come to his stall. He was throwing his ears back and trying to bite each person who stood before him hoping to touch him!
My turn came. Suddenly, he pricked his ears forward, then lowered his head to my level. I began stroking his forehead and rubbing beneath his cheekbones, which horses love, and he half closed his eyes. The staff member exclaimed in awe, "You...have The Magic!"
I could only nod, because I had a huge lump in my throat. Something very special was happening here.
Since others were waiting to see Secretariat too, I had to move on. I whispered, "thank you," to him, and slowly moved away.
As soon as the poor lady next in line moved before him, he suddenly raised his head up, threw his ears back, and lunged trying to take a bite out of her...and continued the same with the rest. Secretariat loved attention. He just was not in the mood for it that day. Horses have their good days and bad days too.
While my friend and I were taking in what had just happened, we saw our dear staff person tell other Farm employees what he had just witnessed, pointing my way and exclaiming, "She's the one with The Magic!" No one even mentioned I was a Little Person...only that I have The Magic, and that, meant so much to me.
It took Secretariat to show me I not only had The Magic with my own horses, but perhaps all. And for me, this was a gift to treasure forever.
Have courage to put yourselves out there, dear ones, for the world awaits you with amazing treasures.
Showing posts with label First reposting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label First reposting. Show all posts
Thursday, March 19, 2020
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
My galloping art life, Part II...
Somehow through the decades in between all the spine surgeries, walking again twice, cancer battles, school, supporting myself and assorted horses as a set designer, I managed to forge ahead with six art print series over the years, which all did quite well. Received more recognition in newsprint and a local magazine. Even a bit of national and international recognition too!
Each of the prints actually sold well! Nothing to live on by any means, but hey, MY equine artwork, including paintings were SELLING!🐎😃🐎
Again, my art journey is like the rest of my journey,
Each of the prints actually sold well! Nothing to live on by any means, but hey, MY equine artwork, including paintings were SELLING!🐎😃🐎
Again, my art journey is like the rest of my journey,
by always taking a deep breath and plunging forth. Plunging forth is having the courage to try. It isn't
easy, especially for those living with challenges.
If you can, read Tom Sullivan's book, "If You Can See What I Hear." Mr. Sullivan was born blind, but has lived life to the fullest. I was blessed to read his book when I was a teenager. One of the things Mr. Sullivan wrote, and I am paraphrasing here...is to remember, we who are physically challenged can gain so much, because people notice us. This has been so amazingly true for me.😃
For instance, at art shows people see a Little Person
with these equine horse prints. We Little People are
not exactly seen very often, so guess which table
people come to the most? Not only am I making sales, above all else, I do my utmost to hopefully open the window of acceptance for all of us just a bit more.👍
Plunge forth with courage. For the world awaits you, my dear ones.🐎😃🐎
If you can, read Tom Sullivan's book, "If You Can See What I Hear." Mr. Sullivan was born blind, but has lived life to the fullest. I was blessed to read his book when I was a teenager. One of the things Mr. Sullivan wrote, and I am paraphrasing here...is to remember, we who are physically challenged can gain so much, because people notice us. This has been so amazingly true for me.😃
For instance, at art shows people see a Little Person
with these equine horse prints. We Little People are
not exactly seen very often, so guess which table
people come to the most? Not only am I making sales, above all else, I do my utmost to hopefully open the window of acceptance for all of us just a bit more.👍
Plunge forth with courage. For the world awaits you, my dear ones.🐎😃🐎
My galloping art life...Part I
Besides the dwarfism, I was born with three other things: a deep abiding passion for horses, art, and a indomitable spirit. From an early age I began putting horses on paper. But NEVER any bridles, halters, or fences though. Just free, galloping horses...always.
Perhaps this may have something to do with living in such a challenging body.🐎😃🐎
When I was seventeen a art gallery asked to represent me...the youngest ever at the time. The gallery also sponsored my first print series...ahem...wait for it: of
When I was seventeen a art gallery asked to represent me...the youngest ever at the time. The gallery also sponsored my first print series...ahem...wait for it: of
a galloping horse!🐎😂🐎
Soon my story featured in a newspaper the first time. Unbelievable. I was being focused on, NOT because I was a Little Person, but because of my talent. To me, this was incredibly awesome.
So I was all stoked to major in art in college. Only the advisor told me we artists should major in something
else more dependable. I then chose the other passion of mine: Theatre! What could be more dependable than Theatre, right?!!😂
Actually, I majored in Theatre Set Design, which tends
to be a bit more dependable than the acting realm. Set Design, like painting on huge canvas and wood flats, before the amazing computer graphics came along. Besides, majoring in Set Design involved art classes too!😃
However, school kept getting interrupted by spine surgeries, walking again, supporting myself, a horse, and all that stuff. Nevertheless, I persevered.😃
So I was all stoked to major in art in college. Only the advisor told me we artists should major in something
else more dependable. I then chose the other passion of mine: Theatre! What could be more dependable than Theatre, right?!!😂
Actually, I majored in Theatre Set Design, which tends
to be a bit more dependable than the acting realm. Set Design, like painting on huge canvas and wood flats, before the amazing computer graphics came along. Besides, majoring in Set Design involved art classes too!😃
However, school kept getting interrupted by spine surgeries, walking again, supporting myself, a horse, and all that stuff. Nevertheless, I persevered.😃
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
Flying without wings across fields...
Did you know that every three fourths of each stride a galloping horse makes is spent in the air? Three fourths! I have always cherished the quote, "When God created the horse, He said, 'And thou shalt fly without wings.'"
This is why galloping across the fields for me, was flying.
In all the decades I owned horses, I only ever had two injury accidents, which were not their fault. Or mine.
The first involved flying across a field on my horse Bashum. We apparently disturbed these huge grasshoppers, and one suddenly flew into Bashum's eye. He stumbled west, and I flew east...with my tailbone connecting with the ground first. We were a LONG way from the barn phone and my car.
Thankfully, we were near a fallen tree I managed to climb on. We made it to the barn. Bashum's eye was torn in the corner, so I called the vet to come. Then I had to leave, driving myself to the ER. I feared two things: that I injured my spine, and/or my dear orthopaedic surgeon was going to kill me.
He fell over laughing.
It turned out I only fractured my tailbone. In two places.
Bashum's eye had to be treated with medicine, but all was fine there too.
The other injury involved my horse Selah. It was summer. I was barefoot. In order for a Little Person like myself, to put a bridle on a horse, I had to lean into her to get the head strap over her ears. Summer means flies. At the exact moment I was leaning into Selah to do the head strap, she raised her hoof to knock away a fly.
Only when she put her hoof back down, it was ON MY FOOT. She couldn't know it, so I had to push her off, but because of the position we were both in, she TWISTED off my foot. Then I did what any respectable owner would do...I rode her. Thirty minutes later I looked down at my foot. By then it was three times its' size and every color. Oops.
I rode Selah to my car, fed her, then drove myself to the ER. Again, my dear orthopaedic surgeon fell over laughing.
I was lucky. Because I was barefoot, and Selah didn't have shoes, everything was only severely bruised...not crushed.
To this day though, I proudly have Selah's clear hoofprint on my right foot.
In five decades these were my only injury accidents. And not their fault!😄
That I was so blessed to fly without wings for many years, I had been given a gift worth the price of a very bent tailbone, and a hoof shaped scar on my right foot.
This is why galloping across the fields for me, was flying.
In all the decades I owned horses, I only ever had two injury accidents, which were not their fault. Or mine.
The first involved flying across a field on my horse Bashum. We apparently disturbed these huge grasshoppers, and one suddenly flew into Bashum's eye. He stumbled west, and I flew east...with my tailbone connecting with the ground first. We were a LONG way from the barn phone and my car.
Thankfully, we were near a fallen tree I managed to climb on. We made it to the barn. Bashum's eye was torn in the corner, so I called the vet to come. Then I had to leave, driving myself to the ER. I feared two things: that I injured my spine, and/or my dear orthopaedic surgeon was going to kill me.
He fell over laughing.
It turned out I only fractured my tailbone. In two places.
Bashum's eye had to be treated with medicine, but all was fine there too.
The other injury involved my horse Selah. It was summer. I was barefoot. In order for a Little Person like myself, to put a bridle on a horse, I had to lean into her to get the head strap over her ears. Summer means flies. At the exact moment I was leaning into Selah to do the head strap, she raised her hoof to knock away a fly.
Only when she put her hoof back down, it was ON MY FOOT. She couldn't know it, so I had to push her off, but because of the position we were both in, she TWISTED off my foot. Then I did what any respectable owner would do...I rode her. Thirty minutes later I looked down at my foot. By then it was three times its' size and every color. Oops.
I rode Selah to my car, fed her, then drove myself to the ER. Again, my dear orthopaedic surgeon fell over laughing.
I was lucky. Because I was barefoot, and Selah didn't have shoes, everything was only severely bruised...not crushed.
To this day though, I proudly have Selah's clear hoofprint on my right foot.
In five decades these were my only injury accidents. And not their fault!😄
That I was so blessed to fly without wings for many years, I had been given a gift worth the price of a very bent tailbone, and a hoof shaped scar on my right foot.
The deeper sorrow...
The deeper that sorrow carves into our soul, the more joy we may attain.
-Kahlil Gibran
Now that I plunged in and touched on what my childhood was like regarding two parents with a lot of problems, I will share how Midnight, a Shetland pony came into my life.
I am only going to touch on this once here. Besides my parents fighting all the time, my father could get violent and beat me for no reason. Then, when he would see the wounds the next day, he would feel horrible and try to make up for it. One time when the wounds were especially bad, he felt so terrible, he finally took me to see the man down the road who raised Shetland ponies, that I had been begging for. We had over an acre of land, and were allowed a horse. Not the best way to have your lifelong dream finally come true, but there it was.
Midnight set me free. There were all kinds of trails and great places to ride back then and we galloped across them all. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, NO ONE ever ridiculed me or was mean when I was on my horses. They were my separate peace.
I took care of Midnight before and after school. And I babysat, using the money to buy his feed, hay, and whatever else was needed. With Midnight, I could escape what was happening at home and did we ever.
There was a dusty show ring a few miles from where we lived, called The Mustang Show Ring...with shows each summer weekend at night. I would ride Midnight to the Show Ring, and compete in Halter Classes, The Pony
Flat Race, Bareback Class, and whatever else we could be in. During a three year period we won numerous trophies, and hundreds of ribbons. Being a Little Person never mattered. And that, was sweet, oh so sweet.
The deeper that sorrow carves into our soul, the more joy we DO indeed attain.
Hold fast to your dreams.
-Kahlil Gibran
Now that I plunged in and touched on what my childhood was like regarding two parents with a lot of problems, I will share how Midnight, a Shetland pony came into my life.
I am only going to touch on this once here. Besides my parents fighting all the time, my father could get violent and beat me for no reason. Then, when he would see the wounds the next day, he would feel horrible and try to make up for it. One time when the wounds were especially bad, he felt so terrible, he finally took me to see the man down the road who raised Shetland ponies, that I had been begging for. We had over an acre of land, and were allowed a horse. Not the best way to have your lifelong dream finally come true, but there it was.
Midnight set me free. There were all kinds of trails and great places to ride back then and we galloped across them all. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, NO ONE ever ridiculed me or was mean when I was on my horses. They were my separate peace.
I took care of Midnight before and after school. And I babysat, using the money to buy his feed, hay, and whatever else was needed. With Midnight, I could escape what was happening at home and did we ever.
There was a dusty show ring a few miles from where we lived, called The Mustang Show Ring...with shows each summer weekend at night. I would ride Midnight to the Show Ring, and compete in Halter Classes, The Pony
Flat Race, Bareback Class, and whatever else we could be in. During a three year period we won numerous trophies, and hundreds of ribbons. Being a Little Person never mattered. And that, was sweet, oh so sweet.
The deeper that sorrow carves into our soul, the more joy we DO indeed attain.
Hold fast to your dreams.
Hold fast to dreams...
Hold fast to your dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken winged bird
That cannot fly.
-Langston Hughes (1902-1967)
Langston Hughes was a beloved African American poet and writer from the Harlem Renaissance to his death in 1967. I discovered him through the above poem, when I was fourteen. And I needed him. I was struggling with what life could hold for someone like me.
My home life as a child was a very unstable one due to alcoholism and the insecurities my parents had with the dwarfism. This was many years before the Internet and all they were told about the dwarfism when I was a baby
is I would be perfect for the circus. When as a child all I could see of those like me were The Munchkins, and the actor Michael Dunn, who was well known for his role on Wild Wild West, it is very isolating. But they were all I had to identify with.
This didn't stop me from having friends though, or letting my height challenge keep me from doing what everyone else was doing. I was determined it wouldn't. However, outside my circle of friends, I had to deal with the insidious constant ridicule and meanness of both kids and adults. With little help from my parents.
Then one day I came across the poem above. I found all I could on Mr. Hughes. And in so doing, I learned in great depth the terrible discrimination African Americans had faced and were enduring. All this coinciding with the events of the Civil Rights movement and demonstrations of the 1950's and 1960's. I read all I could about all of the lives of African Americans...and somehow, I felt less alone. Our challenges were different, and yet, the same.
So in feeling less alone, I held fast to my dreams, and my determination to fly.
Hold fast to your dreams, my friends.
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken winged bird
That cannot fly.
-Langston Hughes (1902-1967)
Langston Hughes was a beloved African American poet and writer from the Harlem Renaissance to his death in 1967. I discovered him through the above poem, when I was fourteen. And I needed him. I was struggling with what life could hold for someone like me.
My home life as a child was a very unstable one due to alcoholism and the insecurities my parents had with the dwarfism. This was many years before the Internet and all they were told about the dwarfism when I was a baby
is I would be perfect for the circus. When as a child all I could see of those like me were The Munchkins, and the actor Michael Dunn, who was well known for his role on Wild Wild West, it is very isolating. But they were all I had to identify with.
This didn't stop me from having friends though, or letting my height challenge keep me from doing what everyone else was doing. I was determined it wouldn't. However, outside my circle of friends, I had to deal with the insidious constant ridicule and meanness of both kids and adults. With little help from my parents.
Then one day I came across the poem above. I found all I could on Mr. Hughes. And in so doing, I learned in great depth the terrible discrimination African Americans had faced and were enduring. All this coinciding with the events of the Civil Rights movement and demonstrations of the 1950's and 1960's. I read all I could about all of the lives of African Americans...and somehow, I felt less alone. Our challenges were different, and yet, the same.
So in feeling less alone, I held fast to my dreams, and my determination to fly.
Hold fast to your dreams, my friends.
Monday, March 16, 2020
Courage...
The greatest test of courage on Earth
is for one to bear pain without losing heart.
~Robert Ingersoll
My horse and our touch of wonder moment...
Along the way now and then, I have been blessed with those bright, amazing touch of wonder moments. Rare moments, which happen out of the blue.
Not long after Patches came into my life, I had yet another spine surgery. Through no fault of my dear surgeon, everything went wrong. I suddenly began bleeding out thirteen hours in. Immediately following eighteen hours of surgery, a huge hematoma formed on my spinal cord and began pressing on it. I was becoming paralyzed. My surgeon rushed back in, and it took another three hours to remove the hematoma. Twenty-one hours in surgery that day!
Days later on Christmas Day in ICU, we discovered I still had a tiny bit of movement in a few of my toes. For all I was worth I focused on my toes until they ALL began moving. Then my feet...legs. I had a life I wanted to get back to!
The spine surgery was the week before Christmas. It was Spring when I finally reached the place where I could walk with a cane instead of a walker. I wondered if Patches would still remember me. He was only six months old when I "disappeared," and now he was ten months old!
One bright Sunday, friends from the farm offered to take me with them out to the farm since I still couldn't drive.
The farm was busy that day. I was so touched because many had come out when they heard I was going to be there, and we were all thrilled to finally see each other again.
I saw Patches way off in the distance high on a hill. Someone offered to go get him for me.
"Thank you...first, please wait just a moment," I said.
I cupped my hands and called his name. Suddenly, his head shot up and he began excitedly looking around as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. I called again, and waved my arms.
All of a sudden he loudly neighed, and began flying down that field. Then he briefly disappeared into the small grove of trees. Suddenly Patches burst out the other side at full gallop charging up the hill, at the same time so excited, he was trying to neigh but squeaked.
EVERYTHING but Patches stopped right where they were watching. Hard bitten men were wiping tears from their eyes. All the horses even stopped and watched. We all realized we were witnessing something very beautiful and magical.
Patches slammed to a stop a few feet from me, then walked up to me happily rubbing his head up and down me again and again. Oh my, did he ever remember me!
This...was indeed...one of those amazing...rare, "touch of wonder" gems in life to hold forever.
Not long after Patches came into my life, I had yet another spine surgery. Through no fault of my dear surgeon, everything went wrong. I suddenly began bleeding out thirteen hours in. Immediately following eighteen hours of surgery, a huge hematoma formed on my spinal cord and began pressing on it. I was becoming paralyzed. My surgeon rushed back in, and it took another three hours to remove the hematoma. Twenty-one hours in surgery that day!
Days later on Christmas Day in ICU, we discovered I still had a tiny bit of movement in a few of my toes. For all I was worth I focused on my toes until they ALL began moving. Then my feet...legs. I had a life I wanted to get back to!
The spine surgery was the week before Christmas. It was Spring when I finally reached the place where I could walk with a cane instead of a walker. I wondered if Patches would still remember me. He was only six months old when I "disappeared," and now he was ten months old!
The farm was busy that day. I was so touched because many had come out when they heard I was going to be there, and we were all thrilled to finally see each other again.
I saw Patches way off in the distance high on a hill. Someone offered to go get him for me.
"Thank you...first, please wait just a moment," I said.
I cupped my hands and called his name. Suddenly, his head shot up and he began excitedly looking around as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. I called again, and waved my arms.
All of a sudden he loudly neighed, and began flying down that field. Then he briefly disappeared into the small grove of trees. Suddenly Patches burst out the other side at full gallop charging up the hill, at the same time so excited, he was trying to neigh but squeaked.
EVERYTHING but Patches stopped right where they were watching. Hard bitten men were wiping tears from their eyes. All the horses even stopped and watched. We all realized we were witnessing something very beautiful and magical.
Patches slammed to a stop a few feet from me, then walked up to me happily rubbing his head up and down me again and again. Oh my, did he ever remember me!
This...was indeed...one of those amazing...rare, "touch of wonder" gems in life to hold forever.
How does a Little Person get on her horses?!!
One of the many things I am asked is, "How do you get on your horse?" Usually followed by, "How do you STAY on?" I tried saddles, but I had more trouble staying on with a saddle, both English and Western, than I ever did riding bareback. With short legs, and all the leather, even with stirrups, when I gripped, I usually popped up like a cork, with my horse looking at me like I was crazy. Besides, I like to feel at one when riding my horses, which I do riding bareback. And I stay on.
So back to how I GET on. I had such a bond with all my horses, they understood the fact that when it came time for me to get on, they needed to stand next to something. Usually, I would lead them next to my car, climb on the hood of the car, then get on. But horses cannot always be depended upon to stand perfectly still for more than ten seconds, so I had to act fast. Sometimes with hilarious results. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I would propelle myself just a bit too hard and go flying over them to the ground, and get that crazy look.
If not the car hood, I would use fallen trees, or climb on a fence, or if lucky an actual mounting block.
Dismounting was always easier. Usually I would slide off and drop to the ground, mostly on my feet...often unceremoniously on my rear. Again, with
that crazy look.
Horses sometimes are unpredictable. Sometimes they suddenly stop unexpectedly. When this happened, I would go headfirst sliding down their neck, if I was lucky. Occasionally, my taking to the air a bit before reaching the ground with aplomb could occur.
Sooo, now you know how a Little Person got on her horses, and how she also "got off" of them too.
So back to how I GET on. I had such a bond with all my horses, they understood the fact that when it came time for me to get on, they needed to stand next to something. Usually, I would lead them next to my car, climb on the hood of the car, then get on. But horses cannot always be depended upon to stand perfectly still for more than ten seconds, so I had to act fast. Sometimes with hilarious results. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I would propelle myself just a bit too hard and go flying over them to the ground, and get that crazy look.
If not the car hood, I would use fallen trees, or climb on a fence, or if lucky an actual mounting block.
Dismounting was always easier. Usually I would slide off and drop to the ground, mostly on my feet...often unceremoniously on my rear. Again, with
that crazy look.
Horses sometimes are unpredictable. Sometimes they suddenly stop unexpectedly. When this happened, I would go headfirst sliding down their neck, if I was lucky. Occasionally, my taking to the air a bit before reaching the ground with aplomb could occur.
Sooo, now you know how a Little Person got on her horses, and how she also "got off" of them too.
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