the cowboy

My dad is a cowboy. I can accurately and proudly say that I inspired this phase of his life, but it fits him so well I would almost rather not take credit. Almost. You're welcome, dad, for re-introducing you to one of your biggest joys — Riding horses.

I started riding horses in the 5th grade. I had loved them for years, my Nana was a true horse girl –and a true badass I've come to realize– and she brought that love into my life. As I began to ride and as it took up more and more of my life, my dad started riding again too. He had a horse as a kid, so he was always a cowboy, but it most likely would've been a dead and gone part of his life.

I rode all through high school, and it became something my dad and I shared, which was truly special to me. Since I've moved away, horses have continued to be a part of my dad's life, and everytime I go home they become a more special connection to my past and to my dad. It is something I love to document, it is as close to me as possible, but still it moves me. Usually when I grow accustomed to something, the magic of capturing it in photographic form is slightly lost on me. But with this, it never seems to die. The familiarity feeds my soul and taking photos of my dad in his element feels like collecting memories with him. Shared pieces in time that will only grow more meaningful.

SKAgit snow storm