Ever since I was young, like many people, I have had a great affinity for artwork. As a child, I drew everything I could think of – from scenery (I really liked mountainscapes) to animals like horses and dragons. Fantasy drawings mixed freely with reality.
As I grew older, my eyesight unfortunately started to slowly fail, and I drew by hand less and less. Eventually, I discovered painting models, and with a lamp fixed with a magnifying glass, I jumped into 3-D artwork, and loved it.
I continued to paint models for years, up until my home burned down in 2012, along with everything within it. With that, my painting days pretty much ended.
However, my love for artwork didn’t go anywhere. Though I mourned my own, now lost, I turned to other artists and began to collect pieces I really liked. From paintings to figurines, I covered my walls and desktop with new art, and felt better. I have always greatly appreciated having nice things to look at – perhaps because I know at some point I may not be able to look at beautiful things at all. Perhaps too, that is why I can find beauty in almost everything, even if it is something that may not be to my taste, or fully understood.
I still desired to create my own work, but as my workload continued to increase and my eyesight decreased, the opportunities to create came fewer and fewer. Even my writing began to suffer, as novels and ideas sat for long months untouched. I felt a great deal of sadness over what I perceived was a loss of my creativity, my motivation.
It took me entirely too long to realize I was still creating art. It just wasn’t hanging on my wall or collecting dust on my shelf – it was running around in the fields.
From the very beginning, I have aimed to produce beautiful goats. I want bright colors and gleaming eyes, with spotted coats and trim little ears. I want sleek long bodies, graceful legs, delicate faces. I want round soft udders tightly attached high between the back legs, and sharp little hooves to carry them. I want living artwork.
Any breeder with an end goal in mind is creating their own artwork. When the show goat breeder poses her new champion doe, that is the result of years of planning and work, come to literal life. When the hunting horse stretches over the jump with his rider clinging to him, the breeder can see her own results flying without wings. When the labrador swims back to his owner, the limp duck in his jaws handed over without a feather ruffled, he is doing justice to every moment spent in his creation. And yes – even when the farmer carefully wraps the perfect cuts from what was once a little piglet pulled wriggling from his mother, he has created and brought to (near) completion his own form of art.
We are artists together. A living being is our canvas, the genetics our paints and oils. The care we give them are the strokes made upon the backing, and the result reflects every morning and evening spent with our stock.
Branching into (very amateur) personal photography only broadened my appreciation for my little goats. Though little can compare to watching the actual animal in the flesh, often their lives come and go so quickly compared to ours. When their spirit is captured in a photograph, it lives forever. It can be shared across the world, as artwork is meant to be.
So though I may no longer have the eyesight to draw, or the patience to paint, nor the time to write, I continue to create. I can run my fingers through the soft damp fur of a brand new creation many times a year. I can watch them grow, and in turn, become what’s needed to create the next year’s success. I can send them to new homes and see them upon a new backdrop, bringing brightness to a friend’s life.
I am an artist.