Broke Cowboy

Misha | He/Him/His | Cowboy art from a real life cowboy

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I just wanted to draw my boys being sweet.

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“You ever hear of the One-Eared Nag?”

The kid blinked, shook his head. The older cowboy spat into the dirt, eyes glinting in the firelight like he was about to tell a ghost story. But his voice was calm. Almost reverent.

“Weren’t her real name, far as I know. But that’s what folks called her. One ear torn clean off, temper like a lightning storm, eyes sharp as glass. Big mare. Mustang blood, wild and mean. And smarter than any horse had a right to be. Some say she was part devil. Others say she was part angel, depending who she was with.”

The others leaned in.

“They say she belonged to a cowboy named Grey. Short fella. Scar on his neck, quiet as a stone. Nobody really knew where he came from, just showed up with a limp and a rifle so clean it could cut God in half. He found her half-starved and half-dead, and somehow. God knows how. They came to trust each other.”

Then, a pause.

“She bucked him off so hard he limped the rest of his life. But he never stopped walking beside her. And she never left his side again.”

The kid whispered, “Did they work cattle?”

The cowboy chuckled.

“They worked more than cattle, son. Drove bulls across floods. Hauled half-dead sheep through snow. Ran fences through thunder. Some say she once dragged an elk clear off a mountain. Others say she stood like a statue when Grey went down in a shootout. Wouldn’t move till he stood up again. There’s a story that she chased off a pack of wolves. Another says she laid her head in his lap when he was ready to die, and it made him get back up.”

He looked toward the stars.

“Grey’s long gone now. Some say he disappeared into the mountains. Some say he still rides, just older and quieter. But every so often someone spots a big, dark mare with one ear and a heart too big to quit. And they remember.”

“They remember the One-Eared Nag. And the cowboy who never let go.”

Cover design for my book (which is no where near being close to done, even at 20 chapters)

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Some sketches I did that I want to turn into water color paintings.

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I was reminded of some of my first drawings of Grey. He was a completely different concept back then. No story. Or at the very least not a well thought out one.

I decided to redraw him.

Grey and his horse, Ghost, have been togeather since I came up with the characters.

But Grey went from being in his 20’s when I’d write about him to pushing 55 on the regular.

I wanted to redraw him with a more cannon version of what he would look like at that age.

And before he had Ghost, he had his mare Molly.

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I have a few other drawings in a series I’m working on, but I got this one done today so I thought I would upload it.

Very suddenly, and idea came to me to write a story about farm animals in a… knights romantic fantasy-surreal catholic horror-watership down inspired- etc etc way.

Watership down is one of my, if not my favorite books. And this year I read Three Bags Full by Leonie Swann and I was so smitten by it.

I loved The Tale of Despereaux growing up and look forward to rereading it perhaps of Christmas.

I’ve been told often that I should consider writing a web comic, and I am.

I’m not sure if this story will be like, a traditional comic format, or perhaps something akin to House of Leaves where some of the pages and chapters are very visual.

I can up with the idea yesterday and plotted down as much as I could. I have a beginning, middle, end, and core message.

Like most of my stories and characters. It has themes of loyalty, identity, expectations, and rising above.

It’s not something I think I can’t commit to 100% at this moment but definitely something I will dip into when the inspiration strikes me. As well as an excuse to watercolor goats and sheep.

The working title is “No Shepard but the Gunshot.”

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This thanksgiving my partner and I are gonna make our own books. He’s teaching me to book bind.

I wanted to make a special watercolor sketchbook for my novel, and these are the designs I’m going to glue to the front.

Like a couple other of my more recent drawings, I started as making an outline to later transfer to paper. But because I was excited by how well the lineart came out that I decided to color them. And I definitely went hard on the second one lol.

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I’ve actually been drawing more than I give myself credit for.

This was a throw away character idea. Kangaroos would be so f-ed up if they were predators.

I wanted to make a character who was like, a werekangaroo. And kind of a pitiful man, but a horrifying beast.

He’d teamed up with a stockman after being left for dead in the Australian outback.

It’s probably not gonna go anywhere lol, but it was fun to work on.

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Here is the poem:

When my road runs out beneath the horizon,

and the light folds itself into gold,

may the fields be endless and sweet with sun-kissed grass.

May the wind carry the scent of rain and hay,

May there be a line of white horses waiting for me.

And may one have one ear gone, but her heart still whole.

When the dry air of summer began to bite with an evening chill that would lay a blanket of mist of the morning grass. As the oak tress started to turn their leaves a faint yellow. Grey would have the horses spend their nights out in the pasture.

“Let them enjoy the starts before hell freezes over.”

His joints still ached from the barren winters he had been forced to survive on his own. Most, he had only survived by shear luck. If it hadn’t been for Ghost, he would have gone fallow like the frozen Earth below him.

He could see the pasture from his window. In the dark, the fields were full of long, black shadows. The cows beyond it obscured by the night. The horses, who all slept in a heap at the bottom of the hill, laid about on their stomach. The animals fighting between sleeping upright or stretching out on the grass below them.

Not her though, never her.

In the blackness. Even at a distance. Her white coat refused to be blotted out by the endless sky.

Faint glints of moonlight captured her figure. The horses raven hair draped over her neck, blacking it out.

She looked like what she was.

A Ghost.

___

I was inspired to draw these two pieces after listening to the song “Pale White Horse” By the Oh Hellos.

I can almost 100% assure that I have drawn nothing but horses and gay cowboys for the last…8 years?

[cerberusmajor]

I’ve actually been drawing more than I give myself credit for.

This was a throw away character idea. Kangaroos would be so f-ed up if they were predators.

I wanted to make a character who was like, a werekangaroo. And kind of a pitiful man, but a horrifying beast.

He’d teamed up with a stockman after being left for dead in the Australian outback.

It’s probably not gonna go anywhere lol, but it was fun to work on.

[cerberusmajor]

This thanksgiving my partner and I are gonna make our own books. He’s teaching me to book bind.

I wanted to make a special watercolor sketchbook for my novel, and these are the designs I’m going to glue to the front.

Like a couple other of my more recent drawings, I started as making an outline to later transfer to paper. But because I was excited by how well the lineart came out that I decided to color them. And I definitely went hard on the second one lol.

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This is a series I did for a non cannon concept. It’s an AU that started from me just wanting to draw Greys parents.

In this universe, Grey grows up with his people, his family, and his community. He doesn’t carry the same scars of trauma, identity, and self-worth that define him in my main story. Instead, he is loved by both his mother and father, whether he is born a boy or becomes one before their eyes. That is not to say his life would be easy, life on a reservation in the late 1800s meant constant hardships under the U.S. government, but Grey would have something he never truly had before: the chance to feel whole.

He would have grown up working alongside his parents, handling horses as both his mother and father did. His days would have been filled with long rides, learning the ways of the land, and carrying the knowledge of his people forward. He still has Ghost, so I couldn’t take them from each other. But here, she is not the scarred, one-eared nag bought for a few dollars, but a strong and shining partner, as whole as Grey himself.

And if Grey and Ghost get to live a good life, Elijah does too. Not a rootless vagrant, but a traveling artist. Their first meeting would still be hot-blooded, but in a setting where men are less afraid to love one another openly.

I think that at some point in Grey’s life, he left his family to see the world. Try to find his place.

And he leaves for longer than expected because he is scared he won’t be welcomed back.

It would be during that time he would probably meet Elijah for the first time. And they stuck together for no other reason than they had nothing and no one together.

Grey would eventually return home, and his family would welcome him back with open arms (Put probably apprehensive of the company he brought with him.) Grey would show Elijah the way of his people, and Elijah would throw himself without faltering, into working and living alongside them.

In addition, Elijah’s art would be deeply influenced by the stories that would be passed down to them by tribal elders. By Greys family. By others. At some point I think Elijah would have won Greys heart by hand painting him a pair of iconic leather chaps.

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“Lord, when my road runs out beneath the horizon,

And the light folds itself into gold,

May the fields be endless and sweet with sun-kissed grass.

May the summer come rain carry the rich scent of hay,

May there be a line of white horses waiting for me.

And Lord, please, let one of them have one ear gone, but her heart still whole.”

I have nothing to add other than this is not the last piece

to be paired with this poem.

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These were all drawn around the same time. Around April of this year. I had just started to get my drive to draw back, and was churning out pieces at a pace I had not had in a long time.

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No road is too long between kindred souls. If I do not find you in this life, I will find you in the next. Somewhere beyond the horizon, I know you wait for me. One day, I will ride beside you again.

I drew this back in March. It was another emotional piece while I was fighting my feelings. I had just started to practice coloring in the way I do now, so I was excited to experiment.

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Horses are usually where I find my inspiration. This was a drawing I did 2/22/2025. At the time I was mourning the loss of my horse, Snö. I was also taking care of a gelding (who I ended up shareboarding for a brief period of time). And I wanted to draw something with the two of them together.

Bellow are pictures of both horses. Snö is the mare on the left, Moe is on the right.

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Here is a collection for drawings I did of my character, Grey, during the period of time where I had lost my ability to draw. They’re still very imperfect but remind me that despite everything I love this character and his story.

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I am repurposing this blog as some sort of online portfolio for all my art. I am looking to reach out and make more art friends and I’m hoping maybe tumblr will have something to offer.

I wanted to start with a few self portraits. The first, being the first time I was able to truly draw myself in years.

I have not draw a self portrait probably since my lizard, Gatsby, died. I know this because he was in the last drawing I did of myself.

There was a long period of time where I couldn’t draw myself. Or anything really. I completely lost the skill to draw and felt empty and frustrated because I had lost the way which I best expressed myself. The way I like to tell stories. I could not start or finish anything. I could depict myself as an image for a humorous letter or note but I could not sit down and truly see myself. Not that I didn’t try, I tried a couple of times but felt frustrated.

It was a release to be able to see myself again. The following picture was one I drew after someone had sent me the “Midwest Tribute song” and I was like “I can relate to being a corn boy.” Which I also thought turned out well and had a lot of character.

I have also included my last self portrait, drawn in perhaps 2020? And the first sketch of the Midwest tribute drawing. In some ways I’m still trying to shake off that atrophied skill of drawing, but I’ve been doing it more often and much happier with how my pieces come out now.