I Chase Wild Horses In North America To Photograph Their Beauty
When I was 6 years old I had to get my bottom lip sewn back in place. But let’s not start there. It was a beautiful day on the farm and I was riding my horse Flicka. Out of nowhere she spooked and took off. She started to throw monstrous kicks — one, two, three and eventually my 6 year old little arms gave out and off I went, over her head and down into the dirt on mine....