24 CHAPTERS!

Update:

24 chapters started--and MOST of these chapters are DONE!

Finished the Goldfield chapter today, polished up the Ledgemere Bounty and Mentor chapters, too.
AND (deep breath) I finished a painting of the mighty stallion, Mentor. Busy, busy, busy!

So, now it's time for some hanging out in my air conditioned living room watching Star Wars.

Yes, I am a geek.


Enjoy your day!

The Morgan Horse!

Here's an ad from a 1941 UConn Block and Bridle program (cool, huh?)

Oh, and don't bother writing for your free copy of The Morgan Horse magazine, they aren't there any more. The Morgan Horse Club, inc. became the American Morgan Horse Association quite some time ago...

Sharing a little history, enjoy!

War Horse

War Horse, the Tony award-winning play, is now a movie directed by Steven Spielberg. It will be in theaters this Christmas. Check out the trailer (and I dare you not to cry!):



The Morgans at UConn are descended from government bloodlines--many of these horses were bred for the cavalry. The forefathers of the UConn Morgan horses carried our men into battle and saved lives with their stamina, surefootedness and courage. They were war horses.

Here's to you, brave souls.

Can you imagine flying over a war--and you know you can never look down. You have to look forward...

or you'll never get home.

Mentor

The government-bred Morgan stallion, Mentor, stood at UConn in the 1950s-60s.

He was...

AMAZING.

He is the subject for my latest painting. I don't have any color photos of him, but I learned from a trustworthy source that he was a deep, dark chestnut. He is buried on a farm in a nearby town--as a matter of fact, I drove down that very street today.

Did I feel awe when I passed by the fields and farms, wondering which grassy meadow held the bones of Mentor? Absolutely.

I hope my painting can adequately honor this great, great horse.

Mentor inspired me to write this poem today:

My Horse, My Heart

Under a tree, my beloved steed

Earth and roots now hold you near.

Twisted branches scrape the painted sky

With sun to soothe and stars to guide.

My old friend, he is there in the nimbus

Wind shapes his hoof and molds his ear.

I see him in the rays through my window

I hear him in the gust through the flue.

My horse, my heart-- he is near.

My horse, my heart--he is here.

-Helen Scanlon, 7/10/11