Well, there were horses in fairy tales and history books. There were toy horses that raced across the bedroom floor. There were horses at the Metropolitan Museum although they just felt like blown up fairy tale horses. And although there were the $1 pony rides at the Central Park Zoo, I'm not counting them because they were just ponies the size of a big dog.
Then there were these horses, huge fierce powerful metal ones about to leap off the stone boxes and gallop into traffic. I didn't know the size of a real horse until later when I began to wander into neighborhoods that had mounted cops. And the first time I rode a horse, I was shocked. Those reins didn't feel like the handle bars of my bikes. So I returned to admiring the metal ones.
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.