Rivera Men

 

         I ONCE WROTE that having experienced magic in the world once, you can never go back to a life without it. This last year has been less than magical, and I will admit that it got to me. If not for the
encouragement and support of my dog and horse art fans on Facebook, it might have taken a larger
toll.
          SO, LAST WEEKEND, a little down and looking for inspiration, I attended our local roping event here in Three Rivers, CA, an event that was cancelled the two previous years, an event I love. I go every year, taking photos of the horses mostly, since, if I want to paint people, I need to step out of my comfort zone to ask them for permission. I don’t know why it is still hard for me, I’m an old woman and should have it down by now.
           I SHOT THE HORSES for a while, but found myself watching people through the camera, people seriously involved in their passion- roping. I might not know the rules and language of the sport, But I recognize zeal when I see it. One boy twirling a rope kept popping up in the lens. I watched him in
the line-up, listening intently to a man, his dad I thought, both handling a rope. There was something
really good here, and I wanted to know more. I felt transported into a story where I felt attached to the
characters. I wanted them to succeed. And I was looking for a small win for myself, something to
jump-start the energy I felt I had lost.
            I FINALLY approached the son, and then Dad, and told him I was an artist seeking permission to paint his family. He readily gave it and agreed to friending on Facebook. I hesitate to intrude on
people’s lives, but I was hooked – and I knew I had my painting.
            AS I CONTINUED photographing, I sussed the family held two more- Mom and younger brother. I believe team roping is primarily taught by parents, and I’m guessing this Mom and Dad are great role models, as it showed in the boys’ abilities to accept both frustration and success gracefully. Truly a joy to watch.
             MONDAY MORNING arrived, and I was pumped and ready to start painting. I don’t know what ropers call it, but artists call it “being in the zone.”  The hard part was done, now it was time for fun. My photos all melded perfectly, and I finished an 18x36 in four days, fast even for me.
             I'VE LIVED the life of an artist for fifty years now, and the search for inspiration can be a struggle at times, especially when a funk sets in. But, at other times, quite unexpectedly, it’s magical.