I'm a documentary photographer who has turned to video because I like stories and want to act as a vehicle to present those of people who aren't going to tell them otherwise or write about what they've experienced..
I never use additional artificial light and rarely use a tripod, so that the image wobbles now and then and commercial videographers think that I should have added additional lighting and had a separate sound person. .
But my goal is keep it simple, hoping that the speaker will, as much as possible, forget about me and tell about her or his experiences with Thoroughbreds.
If I ask a questions, it's because I want to know the answer or think that a general viewer won't understand specific details.
I am extremely grateful to everyone willing to share experiences of being around these thousand pound athletes that need so much care and training to compete by racing until they are retired to another career.
Thank you to all who have let me stand around, watching.
It's been a privilege to hang around, watching and listening, on the backside. I know a little bit more than when I started, but the great pleasure of working with Thoroughbreds remains a mystery to me. I consider them thousand plus pounds of danger, but large dogs seem dangerous, too. I have great respect for those who know these equine athletes well, who work with them every day, who spend the hours necessary to care for them, one task after another, mucking out stalls, grooming, saddling and tacking them up for morning training and afterwards, hot walking, washing, picking hooves. And then there is washing water and feed buckets, mixing feed, feeling each leg for heat or swelling, wrapping them with bandages or in ice boots, watching for the sign of any problems, calling the vet if one develops, hoping it's fixable without great expense and extended stall rest, trying to find a good home when the job of racing is over for a particular Thoroughbred, and on and on, every day, every horse,