Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
Don’t rock the horse. If you do, you’ll perhaps never realize your actions were not revolutionary nor extraordinary. They were not, in fact, anything more than following the kinetic motion suggested in the toy’s design.
Rock too hard and the damn thing breaks. Then you’ll have lost something precious: fixed-up things have scar tissue, thick and unfeeling.
If you stride into the overfurnished room and take a moment, you may notice that the rocking horse is mere inches away from the ancient Ming vase, collected from ancestors, by ancestors, a colonial reminder of Britain’s right to buy drugs.
So rocking the horse is a risky thing, a dangerous thing. Rocking the horse puts you, and others, in harm’s way.
But if you don’t rock the horse, you may never feel its rhythm, derivative though it may be. If you never straddle the saddle, never stand in the stirrups, never dig in your knees and grip with nothing more than hope and forgotten muscles, then, oh, then…you can never call yourself a rider.
Hugs
@debisda
Regnet / Fenner School ANU