The first time I saw the painting, I thought the horse was breathing.

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2026-06-13 18:39:01 -

Lord Arthur Pemberton stood in the corner of a Dublin coffee house on Grafton Street, looking at a canvas that was smaller than a door and larger than any painting had a right to be. The horse was white—impossibly white, the white of something that had never seen sunlight but had absorbed all the light in the room. Its eyes were dark and wet and they looked at Arthur the way a person looks at...

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