Afternoons with Horses

Sometimes the world changes colors on me.
It goes from a shade of gray.. to a deep, wet blue - the sort of color you can wade into and let yourself drift.
My fingers wander gently through the manes of painted horses .. their sweat on my palms; large soft eyes and noses. We exist in a place that grows stranger and more remarkable the longer you stare.
Unappologetic; seductive in every sense of the word. I can't help but smile at the absurdity of beautiful.





(Andrew Tipton)