Tues: No Sooze

WITH ALL DUE REZPECKT TO MR P CRAWLEY It's all material now, isn't it? Or, even better, fodder. Trying to 'schedule me', review-wise, for the Dublin Theatre Festival, Irish Theatre Magazine's online emperor Peter Crawley came up against my Hadrian's Wall of Tuesday Night. [I'm sure he can supply a better metaphor, in the comments, …

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Is it Bullshit?

INSTALLMENT ONE The thing is, it can seem like bullshit, because I read the books, I’ve read all these books about the transcendence of horsewomanship, of the bond, of the communication, and here’s me, handed a school horse, told to get on, told to ride a twenty meter circle, a serpentine, a figure of eight, …

How Many Falls Make a Rider?

CATALOGUE OF FALLS Heidi said a hundred! But Sara was like, noooo— seven. Seven falls make a rider. I seem to remember coming across the number ten, on a horsey board on the internet… Gooooogle… hmm. Nothing. I’ll check again [I should really be working…]— ack, some nutter on Yahoo! Answers said 1,000! No way! …

Some La-La Land of Inter-Species Mind Meld

22, SEPTEMBER 2007 Yeeeeah, there’s that cynicism that I mentioned. It’s the part of me that stands outside of experience— any experience— coolly observes throughout, and then proceeds to examine it to death, mostly, I suppose, to stop me over-emoting in any given situation. Which is, in turn, ridiculous because I come at everything, every …

I Trot, Therefore I Am

MY SECOND LESSON [16 SEPTEMBER, 2007] I’ve been thinking about trotting all week. Everyday. Waiting for the bus, walking to get a salad at lunch, staring ahead of myself, bored, at work. Some of the seemingly unintelligible sounds issuing from the mouth of last Saturday’s instructor [this is the correct term, not teacher] appear to …

Charlie

I’ll probably be on Charlie tonight. You can’t miss him: his 17hh frame notwithstanding, he’s got presence, elegance, he’s sensitive, he’s a gentleman. He’s also a bugger to ride. For me, anyway. I watch everybody else when they’re on him, and they’re fine. I’d had my eye on him for ages, knowing that I’d have …

Oh, No

18 SEPTEMBER, 2007 ‘Where’s Delilah?’ Nikki hitched a saddle up under her oxter. ‘Don’t know.’ I hate it when I can’t find one of the horses. I think the worst, immediately: she’s hurt, she’s dead— she died and I didn’t get to say goodbye— ‘Not in the stalls?’ ‘I checked. I’ll look in the back, …