Be prepared for some anthropomorphization in this piece.
Over the years since 1997 as I’ve done live caricature drawing at various events, I have sometimes found myself in situations and with people that I otherwise would have never ever been present with. As I think back for some examples, I remember around 2007 or so I was hired to do silhouettes at a private event for du Pont family members. I cannot recall the name of which mansion in Wilmington the event was located, but I recall that it was the only time I ever did silhouettes at an event.
I had been contacted because I had done several events with caricatures at Winterthur. “Silhouettes” was not my thing per se, but as a single mom with two teenage boys I needed the work and the money. I remember they had ordered a whole bunch of large black mattes, and I hired a younger girl I knew who was artistic to come along with me. I did a pencil sketch (side view) of the person and then passed the white paper to her. She cut along the line and flipped it over, gluing it so that the black backing would show through and create a “silhouette.” Since then, I’ve seen artists do very tiny silhouettes cut directly and quickly with good likeness…using very tiny scissors.
I was out of my league in a number of ways, but, I was thankful that some bill or groceries got paid for through this job.
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Mid-last-week I had received a link from the caricature agent who had booked me to draw five hours last Friday and five hours last Saturday at some event in Pimlico, Maryland. The link said “Preakness 149” and me and the other two artists were to submit a photo and fill out our personal information to “pre-create” our security badges.
When I had accepted the job, all I did was GPS-map to “Pimlico, Maryland” (I did see it came up as a racetrack, but I knew nothing…it could be car racing for all that I knew) just to make sure of the distance before I said “yes.”
So, on Facebook, I posted my submitted selfie–it was raining that day and I had been wearing a casual dress as a sign that I should “break” from outdoor work and do things inside, and did not curl my hair–and I wrote something I meant to be humorous:
Actually, in reading back, I now see that by then I knew it was a horse race of some sort. I don’t recall ever being to a horse race, even though I grew up within about five miles from Delaware Park racetrack.
In response to my post, one of my close friends from Alabama commented:
So from that point on, I began to get excited about getting to be at this event!
My friend got to vicariously live her “bucket list” through all my photos and videos–many I made with her in mind. We were set up about 30 feet or so from the grass track that is opposite the main grandstand. It was exciting to see these horses running so very close, and to experience the whole scenario and interact with the people there.
There were so many post-Preakness thoughts I could have written about, but since it is now days later I want to hone in on just several. Or at least make that attempt.
First, I have a very bad time (increasingly, it seems) with driving/directions and getting in-and-out of some types of places–particularly in cities. I rely heavily on my GPS, and a number of things beyond that aren’t intuitive to me. On Friday, I arrived very early but had difficulties finding the right parking space. There were all kinds of areas with various police and lot attendants–many entrances blocked off–and part of the problem was incomplete information at that point. There had been another email that came while I was driving that had an update of my contact person, but I had not thought to check email.
Eventually, I got parked and my contact came on a golf cart and drove me quite a distance with my big caricature suitcase containing my easel, and several other supplies. Thankfully, I was able (later, at the end of Friday’s drawing time) to leave most of this stuff overnight in the clubhouse for Saturday.
When I arrived the next day on Saturday, I had already been given a parking pass for a closer lot–Parking Area One–not too far from the grandstands. I did also have some trouble finding/accessing that lot, but the situation wasn’t as difficult as it had been on Friday. I must admit, during those two days I gave amounts of thought to my second husband. He was excellent at directions and very familiar with Baltimore and I kept thinking how easily he would have gotten in-and-out of that logistical situation.
In fact, I had some comedy in my head! An idea for a blog piece (that will never get written, ha ha) such as, “Who Gave ‘Eve’ Directions How to Exit the Garden After They Were Banished? (ADAM. Of Course.)”
I once read that men’s brains are wired differently–almost like they have an aerial view GPS in them–whereas women rely on landmarks and are more “close to the ground.” Basically, there might be some biological reason why men see the entire forest in their head and women see a bunch of trees!
After I parked Saturday, I began walking toward the main entrance/grandstand. (Yes, the evening before, I had to get directions to find my way out of the clubhouse side and walk a distance back to my vehicle.) I had walked out of the area and thankfully stopped one of the officials to ask. I couldn’t quite explain where I was parked on Friday, and she was showing me a map. That did not help! She pointed to the brochure map and said “you are here” and eventually I realized what she might be telling me…and I pointed the opposite direction of where I had been walking and said, “You mean, my vehicle is somewhere over that direction…“ to which she said “yes.”
So, when I came close to the various entrances Saturday, I’m pretty sure the first one I approached was actually correct! It was the very same long tented area with black carpet or something (I think) that made elbow turns and wound around to the side where the clubhouses were. It was the tent tunnel that I exited from (eventually) the previous day.
However, when I talked to the security there and said I was there to do caricatures and was supposed to be in the clubhouse area, they told me to go in the main entrance. So I walked that way, through the security area, and came into a fancy lobby with a staircase, and a lot of wait staff/guards (for lack of better terms). Event employees, basically.
The area looked unfamiliar and I immediately asked for directions!
I explained again what I was there for, and answered questions about where I needed to be with the best description as possible. Eventually, an older attendant (at least my age, and who walked with a limp) said he would walk with me. We walked up the carpeted stairs, and I kept thinking that it all reminded me of some kind of weird airport!
Ever notice women who wear stiletto heels to an airport? I mean, who does that??? I can recall seeing women in stilettos running to catch their flights in various airports. I am flat-footed and have never been able to wear much of a heel. When I was younger of course I tried (always chunky, short heels) but these days I wear flats all the time. And I had my sandals on that day…and by the end of the day they looked like this…
The inside of “Preakness” (at the end I will share some search-musings on this word/name) of course was filled not only with women in extreme heels but women (and some men) clothed in extremely colorful (and honestly quite fun!) attire and especially…HATS!
(Above) The very first caricature I did on Friday (Black-Eyed Susan Day).
We were walking through all kinds of areas with people and seats and restaurants and bars and betting machines and…and…(I’m giving my impression of it all)…and eventually the man took me over to a window and I pointed to where I was supposed to be! I was inside the main building and I pointed out the big glass window (again similar to airport windows!) all the way across the tracks to a line of tented clubhouses. I’m not sure why I wasn’t understood initially…I explained I had been on the deck outside of glass-roomed clubhouse/tents the day before. But, maybe these also existed on the main side and I had confused those trying to help me find my way.
The man escorting me (I felt bad because he had a limp and we were walking quite a ways) was trying to take me to the middle of this building; he thought there was some kind of tram which would take me across the track.
And somewhere in our walk…that’s when I saw him.
That’s when I saw that grey horse…inside this massive building…
As we were passing people and food and alcohol and betting machines and high heels and hats and fancy attire on both men and women…as we were passing security guards and noise and all the hustle and bustle…I looked off to my right and I suddenly saw straw on the ground and I glanced on upward…
I have animals (three sheep and nineteen chickens) and the sight of straw caught my eye…and I glanced up into the middle of this casino-airport-like stadium...I saw horses. Inside. It excited me. Yes, it shouldn’t come as a surprise I suppose but I was really out of my league in terms of understanding what this all involved. How these horses even got out onto that track.
Like me…they needed to be escorted to where they are to perform.
As I glanced into this area getting a very quick look/impression of a large area with straw and people and horses being attended to…waiting, I suppose…this grey horse was the very closest to my view. He might have been about 30 feet or less from me. And he was standing there being attended…and…it seemed he was looking my way…
I was looking at him–he was quite striking, this grey horse–and who knows…maybe for a millisecond his eyes caught my eyes…as I turned my head away and kept being led by this man through this area.
Eventually we made it to where the tram was supposed to run from and were told there were no more trams that day crossing to the other side. The man then took me down outside and we walked right across the sand track. We were also told there was no way for me to get further to where I needed to be. So I was escorted all the way back out, walking with this somewhat elderly, limping man and he then explained I should go in through the tented tunnel. That would be the tunnel I first attempted to go through!
So maybe I’m not as bad with directions as I think…but…I’m pretty low in that skill!
Ultimately I was glad that I had that experience and that I saw that beautiful horse. I’m not a horse person by any stretch of the imagination, but I certainly can appreciate God’s majestic creatures of all sorts for their unique attributes. Throughout those two days I thought about race horses, work horses and even war horses.
As I got a glimpse of these powerful horses running at full speed so close to me on the grassy track–with bit in mouth and driven/ridden by their riders, sometimes going twice around the entire track at full speed–my God-thoughts were ever-present.
- I thought about Pharoah’s chariots racing behind horses at full speed after God’s people were released from Egypt and heading toward the promised land via the Red Sea…
- I thought about all the dead horses that lay on the fields of Gettysburg that hot July of 1863…
- And I also thought of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a small donkey…a type of no-name workhorse that no King would have straddled…
As Saturday progressed on, I drew various guests and had a variety of interesting conversations with each guest/couple that sat before me. It was a pretty relaxed atmosphere and each day I was working with another artist. I had been asked to draw full bodies with some color, which was very atypical for me at live events/gigs. It slowed me down, but there it was fun and provided opportunity for so many interesting conversations.
As a caricature artist, part of the entertainment skill is to treat each guest with conversational interest as I draw them. I often have initial questions to get them talking and looking at me. “Where are you from?” or “What do you do?” were some of my go-to’s at this event. If it is a prom, I ask “What is your plan after college?”…or if a college event…“What are you studying?” in order to get conversation going.
Sometimes, the guests will ask me questions such as, “How did you get into this?” or “What is your regular (or real) job?”
Ha.
I can remember some of the specific conversations with each guest I drew, just by looking at the photos. From the three women who were high school friends and from Missouri and all practicing obstetricians to a younger couple in school and from New York…to a women finishing up her art education degree…to a young man who has written/published children’s books with anti-racism themes…to a young couple who lives close to me that suggested (seriously!) we meet up for dinner sometime! (we were having quite an interesting conversation on a topic we both had opinions on…and they gave me their contact info).
I am an INFP on the Meyers-Briggs...but over the years I have learned to skill of being extroverted in various situations and I definitely can keep conversation going and present a very outgoing bubbly persona (which is so different from how I was in my early years of young adulthood). I can think quickly and make funny jokes. However, events like this are “energetically intense” for me–it’s like I have to hit an “on switch” to perform.
Caricature drawing is probably 25% art skills and 75% people/entertainment skills. That is why there are many artists but not so many caricaturists. It’s a whole other thing.
And these events leave me exhausted on various levels…from the stress of driving/setup to the performance itself…I find I need a few days of re-combobulation time!
But back to this grey horse whose name is Seize the Grey…
When I finished up Saturday at five pm, it was raining. I had interacted a lot with the bartender in my specific clubhouse deck/glass room as well as some others in charge of the area. I had learned that the main race (number 13) which was the “Preakness” event would be around 7 pm. Race number 12 was coming up…and I had all my stuff packed up.
I joked on Facebook that I had the “unfortunate experience” of being stuck there...there was no way I could get all my stuff out of that crowd through rain! Remember, it was all brought in quite a distance via a golf cart ride. I checked with someone if it was OK to hang out awhile…and watch the race. It was fine, and at the very end somewhere after race 14, after a series of various helps, I was taken out on golf cart by my contact person, through all kinds of interesting sights!
As I hung out and interacted with various people I would have never otherwise been present with, some of the immediate folks in that area that I had interacted with began discussing placing bets. We were talking about a white horse with sunflowers on him–turns out he was not in the race. I noticed in the glass clubhouse on the TV screens that betting started at .50 and for a moment, I imagined myself trying just a small bet but this thought was not at all serious….just imaginative.
What if…what if…
Of course I realize now that it isn’t like the lottery…these are high stakes bets. A .50 bet if winning wouldn’t be much. This was the kind of betting where the wealthy thrived…and where novices felt lucky or more knowledgeable than they really are and risked big losses. In fact, a number of my mother’s brothers routinely engaged in gambling. I imagined some of them might have been at Pimlico…but I do not know. This gambling addiction had serious consequences in those families. In one case, a horrific consequence of a relative taking his own life due to gambling debts.
I have taken a number of risks in life–mainly financial investments relating to my business–in a sense, betting on my own God-given talents to “win.” It’s a rough road. I don’t think I’ve ever bought a lottery ticket, but I have been with others a few times that have gone far out of their way to buy a powerball ticket.
I just don’t think like that. And no, I did not place even a .50 bet…but I did give a lot of thought to trusting God as my provider. One of my favorite Proverbs is: “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread.” (Proverbs 30:8)
I suppose I’m just a workhorse. In fact, my favorite high school teacher called me that in her inscription to me in my senior yearbook. It seems this quality in me has a super-long trajectory…and somehow has led me to being at Preakness 149 last weekend.
As I stood among various other people at Race 13 and was a bit disappointed that this race was on the far sand track (not the grass near me, of which I was standing at the fence…noticing how very small in width that track was)…however…it was still pretty close to see the action. I learned that the horses were going to circle the track twice…previously I was confused why in some of the races the horses seemed to just disappear to my far left. I didn’t realize the track wound around behind where I was and that during this phase, viewers watched on the TV screens.
Sure enough, we watched the TV screen right behind us with this grey horse in the lead…and I was excited, too, when they are re-entered the main area to complete their second lap. At one point I asked if there was more than one grey horse running in these races and was told there was not.
That grey horse that I seemed to exchange glances with turned out to be the winner.
Afterward, I watched the inside TV screens with his rider proudly mounted upon him…as he was the center of attention for the thousands who had gathered there for this significant race. I thought about this horse and his place in the entirety of this situation…I thought about him in a number of ways. There are just so many scriptures that mention horses…form Jesus riding on a white horse at His return to statements made in the book of Proverbs, and other passages that mention bits and bridles and horses in some biblical sense.
Seize the Grey…such a fitting name for this striking creature. I thought also about greyness and melancholy…and how we seize and apprehend much deep-rooted growth during such times of our broken humanity–in all of its image-bearing capacity to think and to feel…to express poetry, song and creativity that ultimately comes from our Creator God.
The next day as I was trying to see if any of the photos or videos taken of us were used online (I did see the other Saturday artist was in the Baltimore Sun…see below) I came across a story that gave me pause. An elderly woman in an electric wheelchair had someone been close enough/permitted to feed carrots to one of the many other horses present/involved (not one of the race horses) and she did not have her hand fully open. The horse bit off one of her fingers at the knuckle. The article indicated the woman didn’t make a peep about it, and it sounded like it took some time for those around her to help and provide trauma care.
It was just a strange story. Who was this woman? Was she of wealth or was she–like me–someone who somehow found herself present at this grand event? Was she alone there? I mean…how does an elderly woman in a wheelchair end up getting her finger bit-and-severed by a horse in presumably such a crowd and go unnoticed in the immediate situation?
I once let my sheep eat baby carrots out of my hand and one of them did –by accident, not intention–make a mild chomp at my fingers. It was the first time feeding baby carrots from my hand and I realized that my fingers were similar in size. They did not mean me harm…and I was used to cupping my hands and being tickled as they licked up cracked corn and molasses flavored grains but did not stop to think about confusing my fingers with carrots.
But a horse…and in that setting…would have more powerful teeth. Not just the mistaken nibble of one of my timid sheep…
Many situations in the world sadly involve what we might call “collateral damage”…misfortunes to individuals that are part-and-parcel of something else much bigger. Surely, in all such things “stuff happens.” Whether some inadvertent personal injury in a church setting or otherwise.
On Monday, I was using my paper shredder to make more cat litter…I’ve not bought cat litter now for over a year, in order to save money wherever possible. I had just read the article about the carrots…and I was watching this machine make mincemeat of newspapers (my neighbor saves them for me) and other paper/junk mail of many sorts…I kept thinking about…“Carrots and Confetti…” and a number of other things…
