ICE

You know that winter is getting to you when you start looking for shapes in the icicles.  I'm glad I found you, little horse, you remind me of the great chalk figures that dot the hills of Britain.  Maybe one icy day a couple of millennia ago a woman was as tired of winter as I am, she looked out of her cave and there you were!  A perfect ice horse!  She kept your image in the back of her mind and started working on your portrait on a magnificent scale as soon as the thaw was over.  Then, many, many centuries later, perhaps a man named Pablo saw your very simple lines on an icy Paris day and thought of portraying your simplicity.  Nature.  Ice.  Dead of winter.   Art.