As with the annual calendar of national competitions [post & page], all comics from this post and comments will be consolidated into a page for future reference, see Pages on sidebar. The first two comics are by artist I have worked with. The rest are in no particular order.
Fergus the Horse. Fergus is drawn by Jean Abernethy, the brilliant illustrator for part of Back to Eventing and all of Back to Riding. Illustrator has to be an even tougher gig than artist. I would send her 500 words of blather, without a single concrete noun to be found. She would send back an image that exactly captured what I was attempting to say. The whole experience was so amazing that, if I ever write a book, I will argue to the furthest extent of my contractual ability for said book to be illustrated.
Horse Life. I tried to continue with illustrations for Rodney’s Saga but stumbled at the realization that daily works much differently than monthly. Well, duh. I contacted several artists but gave up after the first. Through no fault of the artist! I couldn’t figure out what I wanted. Posts with illustrations from Sara Light-Waller: Big Bad Bunny, Massage Master Class, Horse Dreams, That Other Horse, When I was a Colt I Served A Term.
Not, alas, Dark Horse Comics. The links show up all over a Google search but DHC is not equine.
What horse comics have you found out in the ether?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Barn cat turf wars. Round to Arthur.
The bad tooth is out [Hi], Rodney might be turning a corner [Update], and I’ve been to a horse show [Report]. I haven’t whined at you for days, weeks even. Time to fix that.
As you might expect from my record, the fussing is about Third Horse and shopping for same. The past week has included a video of a Saddlebred from the state next door, which qualifies as close around here (thank you), an offer to search while on vacation (thank you), and a notice of an Anglo-Appaloosa in my state (thank you). In each case, my initial response has been a delightful mixture of dread and ennui. What’s up with that?
Rodney. I don’t want another horse, I want Rodney? Sounds good but doesn’t feel right. Even if Rodney had won the AEC the last three years running, there is no reason I could not have a second horse going. A while back, I interviewed a upper-level rider whose work schedule meant that she could not ride one day out of three. She wanted to be at the barn every day. However, she admitted that her horse might not have benefited from her constant, undivided attention. Rodney would certainly appreciate another horse to share the load and take the pressure off.
ASB. I love the idea of competing an American Saddlebred in a non-saddleseat arena. We would inspire gasps of amazement as we galloped across disciplines winning everything in sight. Unfortunately for me, a horse with talent & attitude to achieve this also makes a mighty nice saddleseat mount. Some sellers are using the Sport Horse/Hunter Pleasure label as a way to offload less-than-quality horses. Rather like people who don’t know dressage will think. ‘This horse isn’t athletic enough to jump. We can sell him as a dressage horse.’
Time. I have none. I have no idea why. My declining performance at the show convinced me that I really need to get fit. Rodney will need eons of long, slow work, probably involving daily double sessions. Mathilda continues to be a time sink. I want to stay with the saddleseat lessons. Still, this hardly qualifies as an overburdened schedule. It’s not as if I have an 80-hour-a-week job or 2-year-old triplets clogging my days. With fewer naps and less Internet, I should be able to work in another horse.
Doubt. Am I wasting everyone’s time looking for a horse who doesn’t exist? A horse who is calm enough to ease me back into riding regularly yet spirited enough to be interesting a year from now. A horse who is talented enough to be competitive but so not talented as to come trailing a string of zeros in her price tag. A horse who is old enough to be ready to go, but young enough that the geriatric years are not just around the corner. Seriously, I have such a plenitude of personal baggage I should be shopping for a mule train.
I want to stop the carousel right where I am. I want to consolidate the progress I have made so far. However, life works better if one embraces change rather than attempting to defend against it. So, I will continue to look, even if I have to drag myself kicking & screaming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The USDF has an annual contest for art or photography, Deadline July 1. Three age categories. The subject does not have to be dressage but the artist must be a USDF member.
I may have to buy me some artwork.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At last weekend’s show, a friend came along to cheer.
Picture it this way. On one side, a woman I had ridden with back when Hector was a pup. Our world had been hunters, eventing, dressage, and jumpers. We had swapped horses, gone on roadtrips, and fencejudged together. On the other side, a crowd of saddleseat riders most of whom I had know less than six months. Me in the middle introducing everyone while suffering clashing senses of deja vu and discontinuity.
I need not have worried. Within minutes, my old friend was in amongst my new friends swapping war stories and helping groom the horses. Her experience with stage makeup came in handy when it was time to doll up the riders.
In the ring, we may jump, rack, or slide. Back at the barn, horsefolks is horsefolks.
What happened when your worlds collided?
(If the O.F. or any of the N.F.s would care to out themselves in the comments, I’d be interested in their perspectives.)
At last weekend’s show [Report], we had a chance to school in the ring the night before. Afterwards, my instructor tried to get into my head what I need to work on for the classes the next day. Apparently, I looked in control of my horse but lacked polish, “You’re a power rider.”
What? A power rider? Me? When did that happen?
Back in my formative riding years, I looked lovely on a horse. I was young, and tall, and thin. I oozed elegance. Unfortunately, I didn’t ride anywhere near as well as I looked. On more than one occasion, I ended up too far from the dock because instructors assumed I could handle far more than I was capable of. I had never had cause to reexamine this internal portrait of myself as a rider. (Photos by KP Mautner, probably.)
In the intervening decades, I retrained an OTTB and often worked on my own. Turns out my effectiveness has grown but I’ve gotten sloppy on the details. Since I strongly believe good form contributes to effective function, I am happy to go back to the basics of getting my shoulders back, my head up, etc.
My first big saddleseat show. My first big-time show since longer than I wish to contemplate. In my three classes, I took first, second, and fourth. What can I say, I was feeling patriotic. Driving home.
Academy Equitation Adult WT
In our first class, Lola had the wiggles. Her head would go one way, her feet another. At home, we have reached an agreement on going straight, but I was having trouble remember the correct passwords at the show. Despite feeling that my riding was the most mechanical of the day, this was the class we won.
Academy Showmanship Adult WT
In an intervening class with another student, Lola took exception to ringside signage. As we headed back in, I clamped my legs on her side to rule out a repeat. Fortunately, she took my driving aids as tribute to her awesome fabulousness and we marched around the ring in our own one-horse parade. The judge liked another rider better, but I thought this was our best round.
Academy WT 14 & Over Championship
Despite the title, the class was more in the nature of a final. All riders from earlier classes were qualified. The three adult competitors and the one entry from the 14-17 classes rode together.
While I was neither huffing nor puffing, I was tired enough that my concentration was slipping. I’d lose track of a heel here, a shoulder there. I had all the pieces, but not always at the same time.
I am terrifically proud of one point. The announcer called for a walk just as we rounded the corner of the ring. Hunt seat training says stop immediately. Saddleseat riding says you continue to the next corner before downshifting, I had gotten this wrong at my first saddleseat show. So, despite the rest of the class walking, the entire arena watching me trot, and my own deep misgivings, we trucked the entire length of the arena before walking. I remembered my lesson. I finished my pass.
In the end, the kid smoked the adults. The rest of the adults smoked me. However, it is a lot easier to absorb a loss with blue in your back pocket.
Summary
I was happy. The coach was happy. This will do until I am jumping again. Spotted in the stands.
I hate how I look in photos, particularly in riding photos [Lights], but I like photos of friends and assume they enjoy mine. I am in yellow vest, brown pants, & helmet on a chestnut. I plan to order ASAC13-073-16. Not because of the ribbon, but because it’s a good picture of Lola & I look not unbearable. Lola declined to stand around for the standard presentation shot.
Look at, admire, but please do not download without payment to &/or permission from the photographer. A distressingly large number of folks feel that since there is no physical object involved, there is no harm in treating professional pictures as if they were Facebook shares. Unfortunately this does not pay the bills of the person standing in the middle of the ring all day taking the pictures. I have heard from several equine photographers who have stopped covering shows due to image misuse. I, for one, want to have these ladies and gentlemen around to take pics of me. Please respect the photographer’s copyright.
Spotted at the VIP table.
Previous
saddleseat posts.
Virtual Brush Box 