This piece is inspired by L.E. Bowman's musings on women and horses, where she writes, "A horse will turn feral if it loses its confines, is given enough time away from governing hands, dictated days. There isn't a woman I know who doesn't burn with the same faculty...We understand the gleam in their plum-purple eyes, the twitch in their whispered lips that says: kick the boards down, jump the fence, run." Reflecting on those words, this work features a snapshot of my personal life, where during the dawning of a Tennessee summer day, I watched a mare gallop at full speed toward the furthest fence line, playing chicken with her desires.
This piece is inspired by L.E. Bowman's musings on women and horses, where she writes, "A horse will turn feral if it loses its confines, is given enough time away from governing hands, dictated days. There isn't a woman I know who doesn't burn with the same faculty...We understand the gleam in their plum-purple eyes, the twitch in their whispered lips that says: kick the boards down, jump the fence, run." Reflecting on those words, this work features a snapshot of my personal life, where during the dawning of a Tennessee summer day, I watched a mare gallop at full speed toward the furthest fence line, playing chicken with her desires.