I love this little blog for so many reasons, but one of the best examples is when a reader writes in with a long awaited golden answer to a question we put out to you guys!! Our sweet friend Angela wrote us a personal note last night to relay the artist behind the photos I have been dreaming, swooning, lusting and yearning after from Jeff Lewis's show 'Interior Therapy'!
Without further ado...
The artist, John Barneson, is amaaaaazing. I love his horse prints and the energy of each photo. I am nuts for all the negative space in the photo above - what a statement it makes. While I don't love polo (the mallets, the drinking that usually occurs, the horses getting tangled....) I can appreciate the gorgeousness of his photos and the beauty of the animals I love so much. I love the colors he filtered, too.
A few of these prints are going straight on to my Christmas list. I never could really pull the trigger on large photographic art before; for me, it wasn't my preferred medium. But when you attach to a subject matter or an artist, I guess all bets are off. I am over the moon for these! I love the spirit and the beauty of these beasts that he captured.
I often tell my friends, if I don't constantly check myself and edit my shopping carts, I could easily be that person who has a home filled with horsey and bulldog memorabilia. It's hard to not constantly pay homage to the animals you love and that have given you so much in your life.
I firmly believe my horse, Dreamy, taught me how to communicate. With people, with animals and with myself. Words are one thing, but learning to communicate without them is a deeper kind of language. I could write a short memoir of the lessons I learned from my horse. To encourage an animal to jump a large fence with flowers and props all over it or to do fancy footwork that doesn't come naturally, all without words, is an amazing thing. It's confidence in your seat, in your voice and most importantly, in your inside. Dreamy would throw me off his back when I came home from college, just to prove I couldn't leave and them expect a ride when I came back. He tossed me to the ground every single time I got on him for the first year we had him. He was out to teach me a lesson. The relationship started as almost a hatred. He would never give me a free pass, he was a fiery sparkplug. If I did one thing wrong, I was off. But as time went on, we grew to love each other very deeply, he became more tolerant of me and got me through the hard teenage years. He wouldn't let me get too complacent, throwing in a random buck or rear in here and there, or taking off down the road with me hanging off the side. But, he always listened to me cry, he gave the best hugs, and he just sat there and listened to me scream when I was full of teenage angst. He was my best friend in the whole world, I've never had another like him, except possibly my dog, Wilma. So when his time on earth came to an end, my world came crashing down. My mom often worried that I would have to be sedated when the time came. It was harder for me than losing a person. Lucky for me, Mom and Dad had him buried in our pasture and the following Christmas, they gave me a beautiful white marble tombstone for my beloved 'Dream Again' that I can visit whenever I like. And his barn-mate, Willie - who grieved with me after his loss, can say HI to Dreamy everyday. I still get teary when I hear a song that reminds me of him.
I'd hate to have pictures on my walls of horses that I don't know, I'd rather have ones of Dreamy or Willie. But ... I think these works of art are enough to convince me that they'd be a suitable substitute!
