Courtyard
The horse trainer, a powerful, ambitious, focussed man dedicated to winning and being the best while at work, yet a soft dependant man, constantly pining for his wife’s attention while at home
My original ideas in the first assignment revolved around a hierarchy of the 12 different units. Ordered from the ones which he found most important, and where he spent most of his time - the bedroom, living area and kitchen, to the units he saw as almost redundant, these were the ones in which he spent time alone, such as the tower, his study and the bathroom.
The crack of dawn, his alarm chimes, frost sparkling on the front lawn.
As the cold pricks his skin the heat radiating from his wife’s body, kept secure under the bed covers, leaves him feeling frustrated and longing for just a few more hours of rest.
A shower and a hot coffee do nothing to take the edge off.
No time to complain though, nobody awake to complain to anyway.
His aim, his stables down the road, his location, three steps from his front door.
Hesitating whilst reaching for his car keys, in this moment his feet feel like the perfect transportation.
As his shoes pick up speed on the hard bitumen, the icy air is stabbing at his lungs.
Discomfort, and then, blood starts pumping, temperature increasing, muscles unstiffening, mood uplifting.
Stop!
He has arrived, closing his eyes and leaning to catch his breath, the aroma of hay, grass, wood, leather and animal fill his nostrils.
He didn’t just leave home, he has arrived.
Memories of his first visit to the track with his father when he was a young boy come flooding into his mind.
Paper covered concrete, evidence of many loses, bookies busily, stressfully, commanding their totes, punters rushing for last minute odds, desolation and triumph, the gamble, the rush.
A weekly ritual, a great lesson, the first step in something that would later become a lifestyle.
The gambling world is filled with stories of devastation, of broken homes and of punters gambling much more than just their money.
Fortunately his is not one of these.
It is through the misery of others he learnt that when it comes to chance there is no guarantee.
Work hard, give it your best, and when you’ve done that, don’t stop, prepare for the hurdles of tomorrow.
That is how you guarantee the win.
His horses, he loves like they were his children, and when you have so much passion for the game, you could hardly call how he spends his day work.
He is the trainer, the hero, the champion.
He is dedicated, focused and disciplined.
His horses are winners, he goes home each night full of pride.
If only he was a morning person...