It all started with a horse

This isn't Jonquil. Unfortunately, we don't have any
photos of her. But I imagine she had a sweet face
like the horse pictured here.

I didn't always paint barns. Way back when, my favorite art subject was the horse. I didn't use paint, pastel or even crayon. I used a plain old pencil and I drew with abandon. The horses poured out of me, down my right arm and out through the tip of my #2 pencil. This equine infatuation began with an old, white mare named Jonquil.

I had never really met a horse, that I can remember, prior to Jonquil. I have a vague memory of a family trip to California via a "woody" Country Squire station wagon and a "Scotty" travel trailer. We made a stop in southern California somewhere (maybe San Diego?) and we visited some people who owned some donkeys. They offered to let my brother and sisters and I ride on the donkeys. Everyone else rode but me, I was terrified. That all changed when I met Jonquil.

I was five or so when Jonquil entered our lives. My family had moved to an old farm house in rural New Jersey. My parents wanted their kids to grow up in the country. After a long search, they found a two acre piece of property with an old house and a barn. My mom convinced my dad that kids growing up in the country needed animals. We already had a dog ("Snooper") and a cat ("Cat" - my folks had enough trouble remembering the names of me and my four siblings. Who had time to think of a name for a cat?). The next obvious choice for an animal for the kids would, of course, be a horse. Never mind the fact that neither of my parents had prior equine experience. I don't even think we had a book about horses nor did they know anyone who owned a horse. Still, they plowed (no pun intended) ahead with acquiring a horse.

My Dad agreed to this new venture as long as it didn't cost a lot of money as there was not a lot to spare in those days. My Mom did him one better in that regard because Jonquil was FREE! Not only was she the right price but she was guaranteed to be gentle and wise. She was 28 years old or approximately 80 in human years. My folks thought she would be perfect horse for their young family.

Her former owner delivered her to our barn where she was placed into one of the new stalls my Dad had built. Jonquil was to be my brother Stephen's horse, he was around eleven at the time. It was his job to feed and care for Jonquil morning and night. One day, not long after she arrived, Stephen came running into the house quite alarmed. Apparently, Jonquil was laid out flat in her stall and would not get up. We all rushed out to look, and sure enough Jonquil was down in the stall, although now instead of being on her side she had rolled up onto her chest (not unlike a cow in a field) and she had a mournful look on her face. There was nothing to do but call out the vet.

Now let me just stop here for a bit and tell you that our local vet, Dr. Loemeyer, was not the jolliest of fellows, in fact, he was a rather humorless man. He also did not like to waste time as he had a lot of clients and a lot of territory to cover. Nevertheless, he came out promptly when we called, and after hearing our list of symptoms for Jonquil: refusing to get up and looking mournful, he marched out to the barn to take a look for himself. Unfortunately, upon entering the barn he neglected to duck (in addition to being humorless he was very tall) and he whacked his head on the door jam. Ignoring, my parents efforts to offer assistance or maybe an ice pack for his head, he went into the stall to access the patient. He took the halter my brother handed him and put it on Jonquil and with some gentle persuasion encouraged the mare to get to her feet.

We all stood in silence as he made his examination. He listened to her heart, looked into her ears and eyes and finally grabbed her mouth, pried it open and peered inside. Slowly, he turned and gave his diagnosis. "Mr. Graffweg," he said "you have a very old, tired horse here and she was sleeping." With that, he told my Dad he would send him a bill and he left. It was then my Dad probably realized, there is no such thing as a free horse.

Of course, being so young, none of that mattered to me back then. To me, my parents were experts in everything, equines included and Jonquil wasn't some tired old nag, she was a beautiful, amazing  horse. It's only with time and experience do I realize how naive we all were. But I'm kinda glad for my parents inexperience and the fact that they jumped right into horse ownership without looking. Because they introduced me to an animal that fascinated me so much I would spend countless hours teaching myself how to draw it. So much so that not only would I come to love, know and appreciate horses but I would also come to love the act of drawing and creating. My artistic life began.

Penn Cove Barn

7" x 5", oil on linen canvas, 2015

The painting below is currently for sale at auction. 

Click to view Auction  (auction includes detail and framed views)