CAPPADOCIA 38°39’31.3”N 34°51’11.5”E
near me, meeting my gaze and looking into my eyes as if to say, “I see you.” As I stood there, camera in hand, I began to wonder: What truly lies in the soul of a horse—and, perhaps, the soul of a cowboy? Cappadocia is known for it’s hot air balloons, but it translates to “the land of beautiful horses.” Just outside of the city reside the cowboys of Cappadocia, keeping tradition alive as they coral the wild horses to be captured, not into captivity, but by a lens that seeks to share their beauty with the world. I didn’t grow up around horses, but as I spend more and more time around them, I’m captivated by the connection we, as humans, are granted with them. I’ve felt as though they knew my fears and my heart, and in something I cannot describe, as if they knew my past and accepted me fully in that moment. Studies have shown how a horse can read the emotions of a human, how our joy or fear can even impact their actions. When I capture a portrait of an individual, it’s a deep honor for me to be trusted and granted the opportunity to share how, in a moment, I’ve seen someone. Yet with a horse, I feel this connection, the life in their spirit, the power that is so paralleled by peace, something about the way they are a part of the earth itself, how they become a part of the landscape, the way the dust rises beneath their feet as they shake the earth. The cowboy’s life here is different from the image we might picture, different from the “Wild West.” They are caretakers of history, protectors of a tradition that allows what is wild to roam free. These horses once served as workhorses for the nearby farms by summer, and by winter were released to live on their own as they chose. As times have changed, less and less were brought in for the summer, and many have never known life to be tamed. The cowboys may own the horses, but seek to preserve their way of life, they ensure enough hay is laid to the fields in harsh winters, and that every effort to conserve their way of life is made. As times changed and the land was sought for industrialization, the cowboys fought back, for the horses to remain free, for the land to be their home, and it stands protected to this day because of their efforts. They both profit off them as visitors come, and care for them as needed. It’s a paradox, really. Their freedom is preserved by the cowboys, but the cowboys are, in a way, a parallel spirit that respects the land and the creatures upon it. It made me wonder: Does the horse see the cowboy as an equal? A partner in free- dom? One that sleeps under the stars and rides through the dust, one that worries not where he will lay his head or what tomorrow may bring, one that chases freedom as the wind stirs around him? Is it a cowboy that truly knows what it is to be free, to be wild, to roam? To not place value on material possessions over what it is to know and live on the earth, to be a cowboy, to ride among the wild horses, to roam free. Is it not what we all dream somewhere within our own soul? A cowboy’s life reflects the simplicity and strength of the horse, reminding us what it means to roam, to live without constraint. The cowboy’s connection to the land is deeply rooted. The horse and the cowboy, in their shared respect for the land and freedom, seem to stand as equals, each a partner in the other’s journey. But I wonder what it is to know the story of such a horse?
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MOTHER VOLUME FOUR
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