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Why do I make horses?

Why do I make horses?

I can’t say that I was born loving horses. I started out interested in trains and airplanes. It wasn’t until my older sister got riding lessons and I had to accompany her and my mother on the weekly treks to the stables that I started admiring the form and power that is a horse. Even if that interest was ignited with something as mundane as sibling rivalry (I never got riding lessons), it has long outlived any childish jealousies.

By the time I discovered Greek myths and read about Pegasus and unicorns, I became firmly immersed in the world of fantasy. Imagine being as powerful and strong as a horse and able to fly! That is way cooler than an airplane. I liked the idea of the flying horse even better than the magical unicorn. I dreamed of having my own magical creature. But I never confused wanting a magical creature with owning a real, live one. My practicality concerning who would feed, brush, and clean up after one did not allow me to actually consider owning one. Instead, I channeled my dreams into making toy horses. My horses obediently sit on the bed and welcome hugs. I started with simple toys and even progressed to making horses made to be soft statues. I even made a black Pegasus that still awaits a pedestal worthy of him.

It wasn’t until I was an adult and moved to Arizona that I actually got even my limited experience with live horses. Despite having to use a ladder to mount and enduring muscle aches for days after riding, the excitement I feel about horses has not faded. My interest transcended reality anyway. I love the look of horses. I love how they are a mixture of strength and fear. I love that they are bigger and stronger and yet can still be gentle. I love that they are loyal and fun-loving. I got to see that first hand from a friend who owned a horse that followed him around like a puppy. I cherish those memories because they feed my fantasies.

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