Back in college I studied Western History under historian William Savage and then as my project final in a journalism class on media, did a review of the history of Western movies.
Gee, how I love the West. When we moved to Atlanta, I really discovered that I AM NOT. A. SOUTHERN. GAL. I'm mongrel -- half Yankee, half Western with pioneering ancestors, raised smack dab in the midwest at a point that is now considered "The Heartland" center but back then was called "the mid-west" by most.
Although I loved my stint in NYC, especially after "not being from The South" in Atlanta, I'm eating up being back in The West. Yesterday I rode horses with a new friend, out among the pinon trees and cholla and prickley pear cactus. Just being in her barn with the smell of horses and leather put me in heaven. Afterwards on my way home I enjoyed looking at Carrie Fell's paintings -- she does wonderful horses. I don't think my new friend knows of her talent, so here... look at just a glimpse of what Carrie's art is like.
The South is funny. Unless you are born in a place, you're "not from around here." I don't really consider Kentucky the South (redbuds are supposed to bloom in MARCH, thank you very much), but they have the same disease. I know a woman who moved one county over when she got married, and after 30 years, she's still "not from around here." I didn't move to Kentucky until I was 30, so I'll never live long enough to be considered a Kentuckian. Not that I mind really. ..
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