Equine fine art inspired by childhood memory and photographed in Wellington, Florida.
Some memories never leave you—they evolve with you. The Equine Series is exactly that: a thread that ties my childhood on the Ohio–Pennsylvania border to my present work as an artist based in West Palm Beach.
I grew up next to a horse farm. When spring would melt away the frost, I’d crawl through the fence with newsprint and charcoals tucked under my arm. I’d find a sun-warmed boulder in the hillside, sit on it, and draw. Always drawing. The horses were curious—like dogs. Gentle, friendly, present. I’d feel their breath on the back of my head before I even heard their hooves.
And then I grew up. Years passed. Decades, actually. But one night, in my 40s, I had a vivid dream—a snapshot from that memory. It was from the perspective of my younger self: face-to-face with a horse, the world reduced to the curve of a brow, the deep reflection in an eye. I woke up and stretched canvas that same day. The first painting came fast and full—large-scale, intimate, honest. That’s where the Equine Series began. It’s not about horses in the abstract—it’s about the gaze, the memory, the intimacy.
Now, I spend time in Wellington, Florida, where I photograph horses for commissions and gallery work. I treat it like portraiture. I don’t just shoot a horse—I spend time with it. There’s a rapport that needs to be built. Like a dog, a horse knows when you’re present. They respond to energy, trust, softness. When I shoot, I take thousands of photos—waiting for the right light, the moment when the ears are alert, the eye is bright, and the afternoon sun rakes across the lashes. That’s when I know I have it. That’s the image I scale and transfer to my canvas.
And always—always—I start with the eye. If I get the eye right, the rest follows. Each piece in this series is intimate, tightly cropped, and highly emotional. Whether it’s for a private client or my own gallery, the goal is the same: to honor these creatures not just as subjects, but as memories, companions, and symbols of grace.
This is my way of remembering. And maybe, of being remembered.
Interested in commissioning a horse portrait or collecting from the Equine Series?