Thursday, September 19, 2013

Horse.

Near Central Park, not far from the big Apple store, lots of horses with carriages, lined up, waiting to entertain New York tourists. So vulnerable among cars, so beautiful.
While drawing, I was enjoying their smell, reminding me my youth,  my deep secret weekly adventure, my once a week cutting classes, going on a train, than bus to the country, than riding horses in the forrest, in jockey position, almost standing, with the wind in my hair,  cigarette between my fingers, laughing with my friend, galloping wildly... Late in the evening, almost at night, coming back, trying to hide from my father, smelling my fingers, smiling, than reading poetry (Ahmatova, Mandelshtam,  Block, Baudelaire,  Pasternac, Apollinaire,  Zabolotsky, Annensky, Tcvetaeva), almost till the morning, so next day I will go to art school with my legs hurting from my wild secret adventure, no one knew about.

2 comments:

CrimsonLeaves said...

Well, you sound a romantic at heart but I'm hopeful the secret smoking is a thing of the past. I love the beauty of horses and often think of getting one...but then my husband's sense of responsibility kicks in and we're safe. Love this painting, Nikira.

Nikira said...

Thank you very much, CrimsonLeaves. I didn't like the world I was living in, so I created my own, full of things I like: poetry, books, classical music, drawing, very few fiends, horses. I quit smoking at 24, after being diagnosed with chronic bronchitis. Smoking was not secret, it was severe. Horses are so wonderful.:)