Virtual Brush Box

Awareness of the outside world. Blackout Day.
~~~

This is wrong. The horse is happy. While it’s not quite as thick as the photo makes it appear, there is a lot of padding stuffed in there.

How did we get here?

The minions can be slow.

The Week Before. Rodney was a star. Cantered to the corner of the pasture. A first.

Week off for rain.

Day One. Not a good ride. Hey, we all have off days.

Day Two. Walked at length, calmly and quietly. Cranky at trot. Again. Too cranky. I’m not riding this. Got off. Had him lunged. Horse shirty for a while then settled.

Day Three. Acted as if he would run off, or go sideways, or both, if I asked him to trot. Old habit resurfacing. Light began to dawn. [Evil Twin, note the discussion over there was prior to the padding epiphany.]

Day Four. Change padding, Halfway through ride, horse was over it & back to being happy and calm. Rider took a while longer.

Upward progress ever since.

Padding History
Because of course my horse has unusual padding demands that need to be tweaked every few months.

Back in September, we put a felt pad to fill in the divot in Rodney’s back. Magic. [Rodney’s Padding]

Sometime between then and now, we added a thinner grey felt pad as the black pad began to squash down. Cut from a trimmed remnants of Milton’s grey felt pad. [Milton’s Padding]

The latest change was to swap out the old grey pad for a new black one. He now wears double black pads. The original, shaped pad and a new one for thickness. So, when Rodney decided that he absolutely could not function under these conditions, he HAD padding. Quite a bit. He wanted more, or different.

Examining the rejected grey felt, I wonder if the issue is thickness or stiffness. Or a combination thereof. The grey is not that much thinner than it was but it is much more flexible. Maybe the rigidity of the felt keeps the saddle from banging around on his back. Once it gets floppy, it doesn’t work as well.

This will be on ongoing experiment. I can tell.

The space along one side of his withers is from an old, severe injury. The muscle is atrophied, scarred, or simply missing. Lately the depression has been getting deeper, thereby leaving more space to fill. Either he was adding muscle along the rest of his topline (a dog can dream) or bulking up the fat pockets he likes to carry on his shoulders (more likely).

Fill space => saddle sits on back better => horse is rideable. Goes against all standard saddle fitting theory. Hard to argue with the results.

The key moment for Rodney is asking for the second trot. At that point, he’s trotted once and has decided whether or not the saddle arrangements meet with his approval. If he trots off quietly, we good. If he thinks it is going to be uncomfortable to trot again, he makes his feelings known.

Noted. Will keep in mind for future.

Final padding post because I find this one amusing, [Recent Changes, When You Find Out You Are Not As Good As You Thought You Were].

Stay safe. Stay sane,
Katherine Walcott

Thoughts, Horsekeeping, Training Journal

 
Awareness of the outside world. During a televised horse race from the UK, one of the commentators said that some of the horses prefer racing in front of empty stands. Less noise? Less tension in the air?
~~~

Back on this side of the Atlantic, our horses are adapting well to shutdown, semi-shutdown, Safer at Home, call it what you will.

Milton LOVES having someone around the barn all day. Although the major bread-winner’s job is open, he goes in only when necessary. He’s WFH the rest of the time. He has set up an office in the barn aisle.[Unintended Consequences]

Of course, a person around the barn means an increase in cookie breaks and hay snacks. Milton is definitely for those. In addition, Milton just plain likes hanging around people. Always has. (Unless the people is me, then no, but that’s a different blog post.) After a lesson, Milton would happily stand around listening to the people talk rather than wandering off to hunt grass. OTOH, Rodney is better about amusing himself, i.e. grazing. He’s all for the cookie fests and hay snacks.

While work is being done in the aisle, Milton loafs in the run-in half of the barn. Rodney comes in because that’s were the herd is. After a while Rodney can’t take it anymore and goes out to eat grass. Milton follows because that’s where the herd is going. After a while Milton can’t take it any more and comes back to the barn. Rodney follows because …

The other observation has been Rodney’s fly button. Milton stands in front of the fan. Rodney stands behind Milton. This is second banana position. It also puts Rodney’s snoot in the path of Milton’s swishy tail. Flies are flicked off of Rodney’s face. When the tail slows, Rodney reaches out and touches Milton on the butt. Milton feels something on his skin. The tail swishing resumes. I’ve seen this in action. It’s hysterical.

The go-nowhere approach to riding agrees with them. Since we are home so much, both horses are getting worked daily. Except for when they take a week off for rain, or a month off for being a cupcake about their shoes. They get lots of work in terms of frequency, not lots of work in terms of intensity.

When you have no plans, it’s easier to be philosophical about day-to-day progress. Having a good ride? Great. Having a bad day? Too hot? Ah well, ratchet down the work, find something to quit on, and try again tomorrow.

Probably ought to have more of this attitude in non-pandemic times.

How about you? Pets happy for the company or over it?

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Lettering & Graphic Design

 
Awareness of the outside world. Graphic designers create shareable art to combat the virus and spread the message, United Nations COVID-19 Response Creative Content Hub.
~~~
 

Because what isn’t a ? these days?

Process Notes. Background from working my way down the font menu in Inkscape. Foreground. Instead of modifying an existing form, I drew the path freehand, a practice recommended by Hische, In Progress, p52. Can’t say I see the difference in this case, but I can appreciate the theory. Unchanged was my heavy reliance on grids, changing the spacing as needed.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Words

 
Awareness of the outside world. Happy 4th in the US. Happy Saturday to the rest of you. Celebrate! At home!

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott
~~~

I’ve been set up to fail.

I spent today riding the subway back and forth through the Essex Street station. Ride downtown. Switch trains. Ride uptown. Switch trains. And on. And on. No matter how many times I looked at the space, I kept coming to the same conclusion.

I’m fucked.

I don’t like using that term. Too much rape culture embedded in the underlying assumptions. But the common usage is the best way to express how I feel right now. Someone has upended my plate of peas and mashed them into the ground. I have a month to plan an art installation in the abandoned trolley terminal off to the side of the station. It’s an enormous dark space on the far side of the tracks.

I’m a tapestry miniaturist. My last work was a 2″ by 2″ abstract with 25 colors of silk thread. The largest work I’ve done in a decade was 12 inches wide.

Yeah, I’m fucked.

They set me up good. P called from City Arts. Would I be interested in displaying my work in the subway? They thought tapestry as a traditional art form would make an relevant aesthetic counterpoint for the hyper-movement embodied by the transportation nexus.

What can I say. That’s what happens when art meets bureaucracy. We all do it. You wrap your mind in fog and type the biggest words you can find on your keyboard. If this project ever succeeds, I’ll produce some fog-bound artist statement full of the same nonsense, complete with photographs of the work-in-progress exploring the process of my realization of the concept. “Hypermovement” will probably figure in at least one caption.

That’s why I’ve started this journal. I want to record what really happened. I may never show it to anyone. Who would want to listen to me complain about getting a $50,000 arts grant. And then blowing it.

Which takes me back to me original point.

They played it well. They set me up like a Candid Camera stunt. Except no one come out to explain this was all a joke. All they would tell me was that my work would be displayed in a particular station. They wanted to reveal the details during a live broadcast of a City Council meeting. They want to get my “authentic reaction.”

This whole thing has air quotes around it.

What they wanted was to get me in a place where I couldn’t back out. They wanted it live in front of the mayor so that I had to smile and say yes and look thrilled. I don’t know. Maybe they hoped I would have a hissy fit on the spot and stomp out. An embarrassing public scene by the artist might have served their purposes just as well. Either way, the project is designed to crater at some point.

A miniaturist. Filling a space the size of a small stadium. That people can only glimpse for two minutes from 100 yards away. It’s not even personal. Someone in City Hall wants this project to tank, either they object to spending money on public art or they want to spend the money on different public art.

When your career is going down in flames, is it better or worse that it’s not personal?

The NYC art world is small. We may be world-class and global, but we gossip like third graders at recess. When I fall flat, there will be tsking and expressions of sympathy to my face and then gleeful dissections of my character when I’m not around. I’ll be that person who blew the major subway grant. No way I’m getting into shows with that on my resume.

To hell with that. I will make this work. I will.

I’m rambling. Back to the announcement at the City Council meeting. I had ideas. A subway station is a difficult space. It’s the ultimate expression of insta-art. No one was going to linger and contemplate the inner meaning of anything. A glance, maybe, was all I was going to get.

I’d have to work larger. (HA!) Maybe I could do something with fiber optic cables. Make it tactile. So often we don’t get to touch art. I could take advantage of the fact that people would be up close to the work rather than worry about protecting it. Durability wasn’t an issue. It only has to last for a month. If I used plastic and metal, then dirt and fingerprints would enhance the look rather than distract.

I was getting excited about this. I even brought samples. Samples for heaven’s sake. Needless to say those stayed in my bag.

I met P at City Hall. Went through the scanners etc. Was taken to the meeting room. Was told to sit over there until called for. After an interminable length of time, I was up. I sat at the guest table in from of the Council. I tried not to stare at the Channel 11 camera off to the side. I am a suave professional artist. Of course I can handle this kind of attention.

They introduced me. They reviewed my work. In retrospect, they neglected to mention the fact that I work small. Mostly it was where I went to school, where I had displayed, awards won. Standard arts resume. Some intern did their homework. Then the obligatory statement on the importance of public art to the life of the city.

Our attention was directed toward a screen on the wall.

This was the reveal.

More words. I didn’t listen. I was excited to see which station I would get. Silly me.

Ta-da! Essex Street.

My first thought was, Great! Big station. Lots of traffic.

Gradually it sunk in.

The old trolley terminal.

You know the one that was supposed to be the Lowline before that tanked?

I think shock was the only thing that saved me. Someone stuck a microphone in my face and asked what I thought of the assignment and did I have any plans.

My voice went into auto-play. ” … exciting assignment … plans still in development … grateful to the Council for this opportunity …” My arts professors would be so proud.

Then onto the next order of business. Hot dog vendor licenses in Central Park, if I recall. I was hustled off the floor and taken out of the room. I didn’t have time to talk to any one or ask if they were out of their minds. Which was just as well. Clearly, they were not out of their minds. This was planned.

I don’t know enough about city politics to know who to trust. I don’t know who is on my side and who is using my future failure to score points. Well, no one is on my side. No one can think this was a good idea. Plots to the left of me. Plots to the right of me. I here I am stuck in the middle with a lot of dead space to fill.

So, I’ve been moving forward as if this was completely normal. Signing papers. Getting the specifics of the project. Meetings where I deliberately used artist’s prerogative to be vague about my intentions.

To pile on the good news, the space has limited access. Since live rails are involved, I can only go down when accompanied by an certified transit worker. I have to make appointments. You can imagine how excited they are to stop working in order to baby-sit an artist.

I say limited access, I mean limited legal access. The space is wide open. Illegal access is a matter of walking across the tracks. All manner of folks pass through, homeless, graffiti artists, urban spelunkers. It’s filthy. It’s full of cast-off bits of stuff. Any installation risks getting torn down, damaged, or painted over. Anything smaller than a subway car can’t be seen from the rest of the station.

It’s hopeless.

Later.

Getting this all out has made me feel better.

I’m toast. I might as well lean into the skid. I have some ideas of people to talk to. Fred works with big steel. He will help me think large. Maybe my original idea of something with cables will work. Really, really big cables.

They want to use me for their dirty deeds? I’ll give them “relevant aesthetic.”
—Curtain—

Photography & Vicarious Travel

 
Awareness of the outside world. I got nothing. Taking yesterday off rendered me fretful and lethargic rather than rested and productive. To quote Scalzi, again, “Well, the first two decades of 2020 are done.” Whatever: Five Things: July 1, 2020.
~~~

I took the horse request off of my Postcrossing profile. I am more interested in seeing a subject local to the sender than in receiving random horse images. Plus, I have proven more than willing to use non-horse topics as blog fodder.

Back Copy
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Other Info
Message says the stork is the national Lithuanian bird, VilNews, The Voice Of International Lithuania: Happy Stork Day!! I am assuming Nida refers to the town in Lithuania.

Back Copy
Zehnder’s of Frankenmuth Restaurant
The Zehnder family has owned and operated this iconic
restaurant since 1928. They are well known for their
traditional chicken dinners as well as scrumptious breads
and pastries.

Back Copy
Musical chairs with mice, birds, frogs etc and toadstool chairs
by Molly Brett (1902 – 1990)

Back Copy
Blank

Other Info
Message says this is Grodno, Belarus.

Back Copy
In German.

Other Info
Internet translation, “I don’t let myself be stamped!”
Niedersachsen: Pferde

Stamps

Artists of Paris School from Belarus. Belarus News: Belarus releases postage stamps commemorating artists of Paris school. 2015. No photos.

No info. Lietuva is the endonym. Endonym Map.

Dutch Icons, 2014. Linn’s Stamp News has a article on this, theoretically, but the link does not go through.

No info. Luqa is a town in Malta.

USA. Purple Heart Medal. USPS: Honoring the Sacrifices. 2019.

Previous Posts
[A Herd of Postcrossing Horses]
[Postcrossing archives]
Postcrossing

Not as much luck with my Internet search this time. Please LKM of any relevant sites I missed.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott

Training Journal

If you’re riding a horse, you’ve already won.

 
Awareness of the outside world. Lion’s Club: Eyeglass Recycling Centers. I know nothing about this program other that what is here and what I see on the signs at my eye docs. Internet lists several more, although at least one has paused for the moment. Bottom line, I need to go through my drawers & find all those old readers. The ones that accumulated as I climbed upped the magnification chart!
~~~

Picture mainly for visual appeal. Glasses still worn, dressage, mid-2019. [Worth 1000 Words]

Yesterday I talked about why I stopped wearing glasses when I ride. One person mentioned contacts. Several others weighed in. [I See That]

Huh.

I know people wear contacts. I never thought of it as something that applied to me. Dunno why.

I am opening the floor to discussion of contacts while riding. What say you?

Problems mentioned yesterday in the comments were dry eye syndrome (not me) and adjustment period (so me).

Benefits discussed yesterday were durability, better in a barn environment, and better with distances.

Pros? Cons?

My medical advisor doesn’t think I would like contacts. He’s worn glasses for many, many years and has known me for almost as long (there’s a weird thought). Although, he admits that he wasn’t diligent about their care, which may have affected their comfort, which may be coloring his opinion.

To be clear, my problem is not with the variable focus of progressives, although that figures in a bit. The dramatic difference in focus comes from looking through the glasses and then looking off to the side, not through the glasses. Single distance lenses won’t fix that.

Options
No glasses. This was me for years. Ride off into the sunset.

Mandatory Glasses. Your choice is frames or contacts.

Semi-Mandatory Glasses. This is where I am now. While no glasses means I can’t see to read on horseback, I can see anything larger than a phone screen. My choice is frames, contacts, or nothing.

In writing yesterday’s post, I searched for pictures of me wearing glasses on a horse. I got glasses in May of 2016. I was surprise to find that the first show photo of me wearing glasses was late 2017. I can’t remember a) why I didn’t show in them or b) why I started showing in them. Looks? Convenience? [New Glasses]

I know I wore them for navigating. Bought a bright pink safety strap. [Shopping Spree]

Still wasn’t enough to read the data sheet taped to the darn cart. [Show Report ICDE]

I also bought a black strap for pleasure driving. Carts be bouncy.

Distances. Not a problem. Not jumping. Sigh.

Tell me what you think. If you know of anyone who might have an option on contacts and sport or contacts in general, please forward.

Stay safe. Stay sane.
Katherine Walcott