OklahomaHorses Magazine Nov/Dec 2020

November/December 2020 • OklahomaHorses 21 EQU I NE ART I S T S I got my first horse Homer—a retired red roan saddlebred harness horse with a crooked tail and a wart over one eye—when I was 13. After Homer came Danny and then Princess (jeez!). All saddlebreds, all show horses. I was a hard-working, competitive youth who loved to ride and show. Best show memory? Iowa State Fair. My mom let me camp above my horse’s stall, and I ate chili dogs for breakfast every day. Being immersed in horses, eating, sleeping, breathing them, was one of the very best times of my life. Horses were also the setting for a life- changing, traumatic experience. At 16, I was molested by the barn owner and subsequently lost my horse. This was at the same time as my parents’ divorce, resulting in my being flung out into the world without a sense of any support or security, horseless and lost. Am I the first person to lose the thing she loved the most due to the cruelty of others? No. Did it have a huge negative impact on my life and color the way I connect to people and horses? Yes. When I lost my horse, I lost everything that was me. I had no identity, no passion, no love. I removed everything in my life that would remind me of horses. … It was far too painful to be anywhere near a horse without being able to connect with one, so I left it all behind and blocked it out. Q. WHO ENCOURAGED YOU TO BECOME AN ARTIST? A. I became an artist to rebel against my father who was a latent artist and always told me “don’t be an artist.” Sculpture and metalworking came naturally; it was nice to find a skill I could perfect without too much frustration. It was fun to play with power, to create beauty out of rust, to be dirty in a shop, singing and reveling in discovery. No one could take this from me. I wouldn’t allow it. After finishing my undergraduate studies, I went to graduate school in Montana. You’d have thought I’d go back to horses, but I kept my distance. Welding, art, snowboarding and boys kept me pretty busy and able to repress my horsey needs. Much later, after graduating and starting my nonprofit metalworking school, I discovered blacksmithing and the person who would change the way I saw myself and the world forever, my friend and comrade Mr. Scott Lankton of Lankton Metal Design in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Scott taught me a few things about forging, but mostly he taught me how to live well, love often and stay woke. I was not allowed to fall back into repressing my passions but releasing them onto the world. Q. HOW DOES THE ALCHEMY OF METAL AND RIDING HORSES RELATE? A. Well, they are both heavy-dangerous, can get you dirty and also consume most of your waking thoughts. … Riding horses and working steel are similar in that you don’t force your way—you can’t. If you do try to force your way, you’re probably going to get hurt. Both must be handled in accordance with their natures. Both are powerful and can be tamed. Q. WHAT TYPE OF ART EDUCATION/ MENTORS DID YOU HAVE? A. I have a BFA from Truman State University, emphasis in sculpture and an MFA from the University of Montana, emphasis in sculpture. I’ve studied with Master Blacksmiths Scott Lankton, Alfred Bullermann, Jim Masterson and Lorelei Simms. Q. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE BEING A FULL-TIME ARTIST? A. Tiring and disenchanting—artists are expected to share their hard work and time with their communities more than any other occupation. I’m so happy I don’t have to make a living from my art anymore. It really ruined things; my passion became a chore. My aesthetic became diluted. I made work I didn’t even like to pay the bills. Frankly, metalworking is way too hard and time- consuming to make “affordable” things. Now I get to make what I want and lavish time on it if I so choose. Q. WHAT DO YOU WANT THE VIEWER TO TAKE AWAY AFTER THEY EXPERIENCE YOUR ARTWORK? A. A sense of connection to the piece whether it be the subject matter, the craftsmanship, the design or the overall aesthetic. Somehow, somewhere I want my stuff to hit ‘em in the gut—in the nicest, most loving way, of course. For more information, visit hollyfisher.com .