I am a painter. I paint horses. The horses are real. Look at the horses. The horses look back. We have an arrangement.
I see horses. I see them everywhere. They are in the field. They are in the studio. They are also on the wall, now, because I have painted them. This is the cycle.
Critics ask: are these paintings photorealistic? The answer is: yes. The answer is: look at them. The answer is: the horse has a smile. The smile is correct. The sun is in the corner. The sun is also correct.
I do not use a reference. I do not need a reference. I am the reference. The horse is my friend. The horse approves of the painting. The horse has, in fact, signed the back of the canvas. The signature is a hoofprint. The hoofprint is genuine.
Four canvases. One subject. The subject is the horse. The horse is the subject. Some say the eyes follow you. Some say there are no eyes. I say: look closer. The eyes are exactly where I put them.
A horse stands on a small green hill. The sun has been added to the corner, where the sun belongs. The horse is at peace. So am I.
The horse is wearing what a six-year-old would call a bow tie. The horse approved of the bow tie. The horse is now formal.
All horses are, when you really look, triangles. The legs are sticks. The body is a triangle. The head is a circle. This is anatomy.
Henrietta is not deceased. The portrait is posthumous in spirit only. Henrietta has not seen the portrait. Henrietta will not see the portrait. This is for me.
"The horse is a triangle. The legs are sticks.
The sun is in the corner.
This is correct."