This is nature at its best: the massive hachet skull that floats along on that lovely, gentley curved spine, down the flying buttresses of the ribs, down slender legs to end supported on the tiny, delicate phalanx tertia, the base of the hooves.

How beautiful is that?

I love to rid, but to be honest, I'm not very good at it. Horses have that pace, or gait, like a fingerprint, that is unique to them. That's what I really love: the thump of their hooves like a heart beat.

My best friend has a horse named Quinn. He used to be "Devil". Before that, who knows, because horse names always have a story. I'd love to own a horse. I'd name it Last Tango in Paris, and ride into the sunset. Across the water under a surreal sky if at all possible.

Price for this "Tango" available upon request.