Dang, I can’t tell you how busy my weekend was last week. I haven’t had any time to really sit down and think over all the things i’ve been doing lately. I’m glad to keep busy though!
I’ve missed you and i’ve missed my blog. I hope i’ll be able to catch you up on everything as the days go forward.
But last weekend was a weekend full of horses, good old cowboys, road trip talks and good company. Wild good company. I’ve only ever been to one horse event in my life, and that was in merry old England in some mucky field with too many snobs to count. Every other horse was a beautiful Gypsy Vanner with feathers from here to flight. The folks I went with were good people, I walked alongside them as they rode to the event because they didn’t have a trailer. All hundreds of miles if you can believe it. There really isn’t a lot i wont do just to be around horses — even then.
But holy shit, Denver was something totally out of this world different.
I’m not saying I grew up dreaming about going to a horse expo, because that’s false. I just dreamed of cowboying around on the back of a happy broke horse with a good sure foot and only the plains ahead of me or.. you know, monument valley. In England I always felt outside, like some scum from no place that didn’t belong to no one or nowhere. I was just this funny little clown with a stick in her arse. Here i felt a part of something, like i had a place there just as everyone else had. Some right to be there. I learned a lot and saw so many beautiful horses and so many things i want, can’t afford and don’t need.
It was a really amazing experience, and a fun day. I went with Sarah and Daree from the Mountain Shadows Equine Revival, and we ended the day with some Mexican food in Fort Collins on the way home. I’m glad i didn’t bring my huge Nikon. I did not fancy carrying that around all day, i only carried my small vlogging camera, so here is a little video of my time at the Expo. I can’t really get it all down into words because im a little lazy today and a lot has happened since then.
It’s another Monday night, and another day closer to the weekend. Boy i started counting down Sunday night. You bet i did.
Tonight i was supposed to go to the horse rescue but it showed to be far too cold to do anything, so only the feeders went out there this evening. I really wanted to go out there to get to know everyone more and to get over my anxiety a little. The more often i go the quicker that feeling subsides and i can feel like i can get more deeply involved. When i get anxious i stand in my own way, for example i wont go ahead and do something i know how to do unless i’m told. I’ll let someone show me how to do something even if i already know how to do it. See what i’m saying? Then later that’ll piss me off that i didn’t just go ahead and do it in the first place.
Nevertheless I’ll be going back on Wednesday to film some riding and lunging for an adoption video, maybe take a few pictures too. I haven’t brought the big camera out there yet but i look forward to the results. Hopefully i’ll be doing some lunging with Isabella Bird (27 year old thoroughbred who is the sweetest). I’d love to adopt her myself but i have no place to keep her — same with Prada the Arabian Princess. They are such sweethearts.
But if we’re moving again, which we most likely will, it’s just not possible for me to get a horse right now.
It sucks that UW ruined Wyoming, because Wyoming is one of the most beautiful states i’ve ever seen in my life. Christ. The stuff of a little 6 years olds dreams of cowboys and campfires and wild horses.
It’s been a good 15 years or more since i lunged a horse, so you can bet your arse im out of practice. I also haven’t worked at barn for a year and a half now. It’s incredibly frustrating to stand in your own way, and i battle and beat my head against it daily. So even though all this socialising stresses me and worries me, i really love the company so far. Easy people to get a long with and they really want the best for the equines they care for. Not to mention that they seem more than happy to let me “in.” I kinda already feel like part of the group though i’m not as educated in the nature of horses as they are. I’m an actor after all, not an equestrian. But what more could you want from new experiences? I think i’m pretty bad ass for going against my own insecurities and telling them to go to hell. I might be a lone bear who likes the company of crickets, but this time i found folks i like.
I had my first real “shift” so to speak on Saturday, and it was a great day with good company. I felt a little unsteady at first but i think given some time i’ll soon get back into the swing. Because we keep moving, as soon as i get settled in a place, it all goes down the drain then i have to start over again. And thanks to UW i’m sure it’ll happen at least one more time. However, i will say when we go out on adventures or i go to this place — it makes it easier to deal with the mundane weekdays that drain life outta me, not completely —– but some. Also — i love this damn cat. Holy crap.
Sometimes i feel like an imposter walking around in boots & cowboy hats, with a laconic state of mind, being so foreign and trying to hustle in with the real cowkids and western girls on horse back, but they really make me feel welcome at this new place, which is totally new to me. Exciting stuff.
Anyway i filmed a few clips and will be making a video of my first day there which i can’t wait to share with you. Yesterday we also took a trip to Cheyenne where i filmed all day for the fun of it. I think it’ll be “A day in Wyoming” type of video but we’ll see how that goes with time and all.
My dad might not be from Tennessee, my step father doesn’t sing the ballads in a dive bar and my mother isn’t some Southern woman who taught me to be the perfect pioneer wife. I’m just a lost little kid walking around this big world trying everything life has to give me. Missing all those i left behind in sad and bad and pretty home places. Finding my way through fields and mountains and plains and state to state to state. I get a little closer as it goes, but i know the feeling of being an imposter may haunt me a good long year or two yet. If you look at me now though, sitting on this here rock and thinking over all the places i’ve seen and the one guy that showed me what love was like?
I don’t have that much to complain about.
Happy Monday — see you again soon.
I’m sick at home with the flu. It’s been trying to catch up with me for weeks but i’ve been dodging it like an son of a bitch. But i could only run for so long. And so here we are. I’m investing some well earned time into my blog today and i’ve been digging into my dark pit of old photographs. Boy, it sure is easy to lose yourself in the past.
When i was little i didn’t play all that much with other children. I was busy playing cowboys and Indians at Mormor & Morfars house. Morfar, as long as i can remember, has always been John Wayne to me. I also thought Mormor was secretly a witch because she had a very questionable broom stick in the garage, but Morfar was Big John Wayne with the personality of an angry buffalo. He was the Duke because he folded the ends of his jeans the same way. My jeans were always too long for me because i was so small — so he’d fold mine too because theres no need to ruin the end of your cowboy jeans if it can be avoided. In Denmark thats what we called Jeans “Cowboy trousers.” Morfar is taller than the mast on a rigger — he also has a burly step to his walk.
He still has/does all these things. It’s one of the many things that early on in my life pointed to something bringing me west. I used to have a small belt buckle with three rope rings on it and in the rope rings was a conestoga wagon, a team of 8 horses and two people riding to a new homestead in the west. Jack and i probably. All this time i carried us on my belt. Until it didn’t fit and i grew woman hips. In England i would make bows and arrows out of sticks and string. And that i could fire a crossbow better than the man who owned it. Even in nursery i remember sitting in a random tube in a hole in the ground wearing big black cowboy boots that didn’t fit (sorry mor — i lied so you’d buy them for me). But i wanted them and i wore them, they must have made a difference considering i live my everyday in cowboy boots. There are many little things in my life that seemed to nudge me towards what was going to happen.
I wanted to share some of my photographs from that life on this blog. I don’t know why i didn’t blog back then. I tried a couple of times but life was getting pretty complicated and i could barely keep up. Surprisingly i also don’t have that many photographs from Texas, but that was because i was so busy living. I’d found life so god damn hard up until that point — but now there was a reason to try harder. To be better. To be a new person and a greater version of me — the me i recognise. And i look at her every day in the mirror now. Though somedays i might not like her face i so appreciate her for what she’s done for me and got me through. I can look at her in the eye and tell her she did the work of a woman who could fly. A person who believed she could so she did.
I’m sure some of you question whether i had anything that stopped me wanting to move to Texas. Yes, i had a few small things in the back of my mind that concerned me but i’ve never been one to listen that well. And i went anyway. Before i met Jack i never wanted to go to America, and i felt terrible for everything the First nations were put through. I wanted no part of that which is why i never wanted to step foot on that land. I didn’t want to move further away from my family either and i so wanted to grow old in Denmark. Sometimes i still do. But i know i’m not meant for that life. I’ve lived so long away from home — that home is anywhere now. If i returned home i would never belong again and it would feel like everything was a dream. The absolute hardest part of moving was giving up my sailing life and it’s still a wound that i scratch at once in a while, but i’m also aware enough to know that that part of my life was supposed to bring me to something better than where i’d been. Sailing was the last beautiful gift England gave me after the harsh years i had where i was. And i got my best friend for life, but i had to leave and move on to find where i was supposed to be. So yes these things can still get on my mind and i still have to work to figure them out but for now I bring to you — Texas as seen through my eyes.
They could easily have be used as weapons in a town that wasn’t big enough for everyone.
No i didn’t read the instructions.
I had assumed these griddle cakes were supposed to be the same size as biscuits.
They’re supposed to be american pancake size-ish not hockey puck size.
If you ever get a chance to have one of my griddle cakes — you will be full for a week.
So… they’re perfect for the trail if you’re close to starvation at any rate but they’re definitely not for those with weak teeth or dentures.