Imprinting

By Leslie Hudson-Tolles

I sought to etch in this plate the basic horse, its wild roots. From the beginning, this plate presented as many problems as an unbroken colt with his own agenda.

I lay hidden by the tall, tall grass on a breezy fall day and let my horses snort and blow around me. Working from the images I collected, I inscribed the plate. I was happy with the bite of the horse, but the plate fell short in portraying the feeling of history I wanted. Disgusted, I dug a hole in the sandy sub-floor of one of my stalls, buried the plate and went on to other projects.

At an 11 o’clock barn check one Sunday night in February, I found one of my horses colicing. As I bundled by children into the car for a trek to the vet for Banamine, I remembered the buried plate.

Fearing my horse would go down thrashing and dislodge the plate, and shuddering at the thoughts of the harm a zinc plate could do, I drove back to the barn, dug up the plate, and threw it in a snowbank out of harms way.

My horse recovered, winter passed, and as the snow receded I was once again reminded of the plate. Thinking at this point that it was me or this blasted plate, I cleaned and printed it. The multi tones burned by the sand, ammonia and weather were a step in the right direction, but I felt that the plate still lacked drama.

While unloading hay that spring, I thought of burning hay stems right into the plate for added texture. Four or five applications of hay and bites of acid later, I was getting closer. The plate was cut down in size twice until I was happy with the viewer’s more intimate relationship with the inquisitive horse. Embossing more hay added dimension which gave the feeling of the viewer spanning recorded history and observing both the primeval horse and a contemporary one.

The plate for Imprinting was a work in progress for more than two years.