In the days when the horses were the most important mode of transportation (read: before the white man) there was the medicine hat horse.
These sacred horses had dark ears and a spot crowning the head. The body was mostly white, which supplied a canvas for bright symbols of war or the sun or the hunt.
The medicine hat horses protected their riders, often warning of danger (which a good horse will) and even scouting out game. Obviously, a horse bearing the medicine hat was greatly prized and very rare.
It perhaps is no accident that I was gifted this image of a friend’s filly, named Quinn, who was just recently born sporting the sacred markings. April is always a hard month for me, bearing several tough anniversaries. To top this off, April 2018 has been fraught with upheaval in the government, internal rumors and vicious gossip, dropping missiles on Syria, and unsettling warnings about the climate; whales dying as the polar ice cap melts away. Here in Michigan, winter seems never-ending with cold winds and ice falling out of the sky.
But now come these mystical images of a medicine horse, a filly foal, bouncing by her dam’s side, stretching down to pose with one long leg thrust forward, for all the world like a white ballerina.
And me with my oils, the rich aroma, the blending textures, in deep colors that must be savored, because they just don’t dry.
Layer after layer. Take your time. Stretch and reach and breathe.