Slushy Wednesday greetings, my collector friends! It's a snowy soupy mess out there, which Ollie and I discovered during our morning walk. One of the nice things about the magic of the interwebs is that I've managed to have a very productive day from the comfort of my cozy apartment, with the Otter at my side. (For the record, she's not really an otter, she's a dog. A dog that looks like an otter.) That Charles Schultz fella was onto something when he said "Happiness is a warm puppy."

Today's edition Amish Horses, is by an artist who should be familiar to 20x200 collectors and Hey, Hot Shot! fans alike. Colleen Plumb, a Hot Shot who showed in the first 2008 exhibition, is someone who shares my affinity for creatures great and small. She showed several photos from the Animals Are Outside Today series at the gallery. (I was deeply smitten with Sleeping Lion, which reminds me of my dog, the one that's not an otter.) She also released two editions here on 20x200; I had a fantastic time writing about those two photographs Field Museum Sue and Tiger Rug, Cabrini Green.

Amish Horses come from that same series. As with many of Colleen's other images, there's a softened focus that heightens the dreamy mood and yes, I'm totally anthropomorphizing here, but it sure does seem like they're making googly eyes at each other, doesn't it? And with Valentine's Day a few weeks off, I can't help but notice how the union of their heads seems to form a heart. It's an incredibly sweet image, but there's something about it that keeps it from being downright saccharine. It could be that there's nothing soft about the horses themselves; they're lean and strong and their energy seems ready to burst forth. I'm pretty sure they're nuzzling, but it's also possible that they're butting heads. (Kinda like how love works, huh? For me at least.)

I read this James Wright poem a while ago, and was really taken by it. I also immediately connected it to Colleen's horses, so I thought I'd include it here.

A Blessing

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

And on that happy, bucolic note, I'll take my leave for the day. I'm not done for the week yet, however! We've got a special surprise heading your way right around this time tomorrow. Look for me then.