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Growing up in a small village to the west of London, my dad used to take me, my brother, and my sister horse riding on a regular basis. I was only four when I started, and that's where my love of horses began. However, after a particularly eventful ride when I was eight - during which I was thrown off and then later rolled on by the pony - I decided that was quite enough of that, thank you very much.
Fast forward to my teenage years, and I found myself back at those same stables, where I noticed they could do with some help. I was more than happy to muck in, largely because there were quite a few lovely young ladies who kept their horses there. Priorities, as they say. This pony was one of the residents, and it was the very first horse I ever drew.
Fast forward to my teenage years, and I found myself back at those same stables, where I noticed they could do with some help. I was more than happy to muck in, largely because there were quite a few lovely young ladies who kept their horses there. Priorities, as they say. This pony was one of the residents, and it was the very first horse I ever drew.