The hoof whisperer

dsc_4125_2-2It’s Tina’s birthday. Tina is an artist, and if what Malcolm Gladwell said is true, that 10,000 hours of practice is what counts, I’d be one too. (Actually Gladwell has clarified his point, telling us what we knew already, that talent has a bit to do with it.)

But about those 10,000 hours. When we were in fifth grade Tina made us some sketchpads – big pieces of drawing paper stapled together. She, being an artist, was one of those kids who drew all the time. Me, not so much. Not at all in fact. But it would be fun, she said. We could draw horses!

We used to play horses, in the woods across from her house. We’d find a long stick and gallop around, and then wonder what else there was to do playing horses (not a lot). Or we’d ride on her father’s aforementioned saddle, pretending to be cowboys.

I gave up drawing horses and pretty much everything else early on (but we did have those sketchpads for a long time, and when we’d filled one up she’d make us more, so I do think I got my hours in). Tina is now living the life she’s always dreamed about, in a Joshua Tree studio she designed herself. Painting all day. Me, not so much.

But just look at those hooves. Such memories they bring back, looking just as perfect as they did in her fifth grade sketchpad (sorry Tina, but you were amazing even back then). Maybe if I just hadn’t compared our hooves …

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