I grew up in the hill country of the Northwest by Mt. Hood, Oregon back in the mid 1960s-70s. We lived near the Eagle Creek Wilderness area, Delph Creek ran through a wild, crazy, steep ravine just behind our property, a twenty minute drive to Estacada or Sandy Oregon. The farm was mostly hill pasture bordered by thousands of acres of old growth Douglas fir, a wonderful place to explore as a child. Mom kicked me out of the house after breakfast if the weather wasn't too bad, rain didn't count. I could come in to eat lunch and then back outside until Mom called me in for dinner. No one to tell me what to do or worry about someone snatching me way back in the 1960s, stealing kids was unheard of in my neck of the woods. If it was raining I would go cuddle with our Morgan broodmares in the horse barn or hangout with the laying hens. If it wasn't raining, I would climb up on my horse by throwing my leg over her neck while she was grazing. She lift her head up and I would slide down her neck onto her back. I would stretch out on my mares back, those broodmares had double backs like a cot, and watch the clouds sail by, hear the quiet munching sounds the mares made grazing, feel the warmth of her hide and the salty smell of her sweat. I had the most amazing feeling of total acceptance from our farm animals that I've never experienced with my own kind.
I grew up drawing horses, this is a recent quick pencil sketch I did working on odd angles.
Things I did as a kid to entertain myself without internet, smart phones (I remember telephone party lines), TV, or other kids to play with. I loved to collect all sorts of bugs, snakes, and amphibians.
Glass Frog, Watercolor and Gouache, 300lb hot press cotton paper.
I remember one time I stuck a bunch of red striped garter snakes in a shoe box and placed the box on top of my unmade bed, I think I was around 6 years old. My grandma was visiting and came in to make my bed after I was up and playing outside. She grabbed the blankets and threw them up in the air to straighten them out. Up went the box full of snakes, off came the lid, and it was raining snakes. I was not allowed to collect snakes after that. My grandma didn't get mad or freak out, she was a hardy women who survived the depression, sewing for rich people, and growing a garden to feed her four kids. Not much fazed her, including my fascination with nature and it's creepy crawly things. There is a drawing or water color picture of the snake incident on my todo list with the story.
Grandma taught me how to grow a garden, my potato patch.
Every year I had a fish tank full of tadpoles I raised up to little red legged frogs and turned them loose in the creek that ran in the back of our 40 acre ranch.
Orange Toad, watercolor and gouache, 300lb hot press cotton paper.
