Inkjet prints, horse hair, peppermints.
Earlier this year, me and my family found out that my horse, Chance's, melanoma (which we thought was not too serious) had grown to the point that it was affecting his breathing, especially when he worked. So we retired him, and decided to keep a close eye on the cancer growths. Unfortunately, Chance's melanoma was genetic, and therefore, no matter what we did, it would come back. We thought he would just live the rest of his years out as a pasture pet.
But the cancer was growing fast.
His vet said that it was starting to grow along his spine, and feared him going neurologic (and therefore tripping, falling, and hurting himself). It was at that point that we knew, we had to stop any suffering before it started. Our biggest fear was the coming winter, and him slipping and falling on the ice. The worst thought was something terrible happening and us having to rush to the barn to say goodbye.
So we made the decision to euthanize him.
I created this project, drawing from my archive of images of Chance before his cancer was so visible, to process the coming grief. I had had a lot of time to think about things prior, but everything became so real once we had to start thinking about a date to say goodbye. That's when this sprouted.
I thought about how, over time, memories fade, and eventually, my memory of him will be gone. The use of curtains to obscure the images was to signify this feeling. I decided to add a chunk of his hair and some peppermints at the pedestal in the center as a sort of altar; I was thinking about the history of cutting off someone's hair when they die to commemorate them and keep something with them. Also, the idea of giving loved ones food in their grave to help them in the afterlife.
I'm not a spiritual or religious person, so creating this was my way of showing how I see things, and coping (as religion is often a coping mechanism; making art is for me).
