Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
In the year 1994, Jameela and Yasmeen were taken on an adventure to be introduced to the wildlife of equine beauty. I was always in search of a black beauty horse, while Yasmeen was fond of the white.
My father said he wanted a “blue beauty.” I told him they didn’t exist, but he said he would paint one.
When you travel through the countryside of Australia, the farmlands and the bush, horses are often part of the picturesque view. But to witness the sheer beauty of a galloping black horse is a majestic experience. They make you wonder what stories their lives could tell.
My father promised a horse each for Yasmeen and me when we turned twelve. On the morning of my impatient birthday, I waited by the front window, peeking through the curtains. I saw only my dad’s van arrive. I asked him where my horse was, and he said, “Jameela, it ran away.” Yasmeen and I were upset, so we asked Mum if we could go look for them. She said no.
Later that night, while everyone was asleep, we took Mum’s house keys and unlocked the back door. We jumped over the fence and left. I don’t remember how long we walked for, but it was sunrise by the time we stopped. We reached a stable farm filled with horses, visible from the highway, but we knew our horses weren’t there.
Years passed, and now we’re adults. Yasmeen trained to work with horses, learning how to provide care, attend races, and work alongside some of the best trainers. As for me, I photograph them, and one day, I came across the mysterious, true black horse. Her name is Lara.
In the year 1994, Jameela and Yasmeen were taken on an adventure to be introduced to the wildlife of equine beauty. I was always in search of a black beauty horse, while Yasmeen was fond of the white.
My father said he wanted a “blue beauty.” I told him they didn’t exist, but he said he would paint one.
When you travel through the countryside of Australia, the farmlands and the bush, horses are often part of the picturesque view. But to witness the sheer beauty of a galloping black horse is a majestic experience. They make you wonder what stories their lives could tell.
My father promised a horse each for Yasmeen and me when we turned twelve. On the morning of my impatient birthday, I waited by the front window, peeking through the curtains. I saw only my dad’s van arrive. I asked him where my horse was, and he said, “Jameela, it ran away.” Yasmeen and I were upset, so we asked Mum if we could go look for them. She said no.
Later that night, while everyone was asleep, we took Mum’s house keys and unlocked the back door. We jumped over the fence and left. I don’t remember how long we walked for, but it was sunrise by the time we stopped. We reached a stable farm filled with horses, visible from the highway, but we knew our horses weren’t there.
Years passed, and now we’re adults. Yasmeen trained to work with horses, learning how to provide care, attend races, and work alongside some of the best trainers. As for me, I photograph them, and one day, I came across the mysterious, true black horse. Her name is Lara.