Freshman

"Freshman"
20x30 oil on canvas
stages of the underpainting

Last week I took a trip to Coatesville to spend the day with a friend. She was kind enough to drive me around the area so that I could photograph some horses. We stopped at a field filled with young thoroughbreds that were probably to be weeded out for use on the track. This group was in their ugly years, probably about 2 and will be ready for saddling in the spring when their knees close. They were gangly, awkward and cocky. In my head I kept hearing the song "The Freshman" and the words in the chorus repeating "can't be held responsible".

There was no doubt I had to paint this gruesome group. I was intrigued by their wildness and naive look in their eyes. I think back to when glancing in the mirror my eyes shown of innocence. Sure, I'm by no means old but something is different in my gaze. I've mentioned this in blog posts before but it startles me every time I see it.

When did it happen? When did the world start looking different? When did I stop living without worrying about consequences? When did I grow up? Obviously it didn't happen overnight but recent events certainly sped up the process.

This isn't a bad thing and I'm thankful that I don't walk around in that stupid haze of youth. Yet, as I looked into the eyes of these silly equines I briefly longed to be there again. Thankfully, they started kicking and biting each other as youngsters will do and chaos ensued. Someone was going to get hurt. I snapped out of it, looked down to make sure I didn't trip on a twig, got in my XB, belted myself in and drove off.