Everyone loves a love story – even between a horse and a squirrel. Photographer Asia Kepka is finding out just how MUCH love people have for Horace the horse and Agnes the squirrel. Kepka and her girlfriend Lynn Dowling put them on and gave them names —Agnes is named after Dowling’s late mother; Horace after an unnamed Hollywood actor and ex-neighbor of Dowling.
“I’m always drawn to older people and coming up with characters. So when I saw them I thought of them as a lovely middle-aged couple who had fallen in love.”
Dowling then began writing the backstories about the pair: They met on a train, enjoy a great social life, they like to travel and love music. Over a year, 100 or so images and stories have been added to the series they called “Horace and Agnes: A Love Story.”
“I’ve got a huge collection of clothing—my house is kind of like a theater. Some people call it hoarding, but I call it collections. You never know what you’ll be fascinated or stimulated by. When you see an object, an entire story can evolve from it.”
Since the beginning, friends have expressed a desire to participate, new characters have appeared, a Facebook page got started, exhibitions planned, and now a prototype of a book. They are all totally charming. Check out more here.
PEOPLE WATCHING: "Agnes, get a load of that guy over there. What in the world…” Horace is dispatching running commentary as they wait for the 424 bus. Agnes is exhausted after a full day of sightseeing and can’t wait to get off her feet. "Horace dear, don’t be unkind.” "C’mon Agnes,” Horace moans. “The best part of coming to the city is people watching.” "That’s true Sweetheart, but don’t forget, they’re looking at you too." "What’s wrong with me?” Horace asks sadly. "Luckily nothing…because I pick out all your clothes,” Agnes says nonchalantly while peering out for the bus.
Horace laughs out loud. “Very well, I will be good.” Just as he declares silence, a lady walks by that looks just like Ernest Borgnine.
IN SEARCH OF A PICNIC: Agnes is determined to go on a picnic today regardless of the weather. Horace woke up early and packed the basket. Agnes is usually in charge of the food so she is a little dubious of Horace’s possible choices. "Did you bring grapes?” "Yes Agnes, I brought grapes.” "Did you wash them?” "Yes Agnes, I washed them and I also brought wine.” "Did you remember the wine opener?” "Agnes my love, It’s your job to find us the perfect spot and my job to provide the perfect picnic, which I did…I even packed the ants.”
PLEASANT VALLEY:
Horace and Agnes were looking to get an early start after their motel stay in Pleasant Valley but Agnes is still poking around the room. When she finally emerges, he curiously asks her what she’s been up to. “I’ve been making the bed and tidying up the room, of course.” Horace looks up and says, “Dear, I think they have people to do that.” Agnes reaches back and closes the door behind her. ” I know Horace, but I don’t want them to think we are pigs.”
FRIENDS HAVE FLAWS:
Agnes’ oldest friend Bertie likes to drop in unannounced and it’s usually around meal time. Bertie always has the latest gossip and follows up each story with, “but don’t tell anyone.” Horace mostly plays bystander when the ladies are in their element though he does notice that no matter how much food is on the table, Bertie’s fork always wanders over to his plate. He’s tried to address this with Agnes but she just smiles sweetly, “Oh Horace, friends have flaws…eat faster next time.”
THE DIVORCEÉS: "How was Switzerland Grace?” Horace says while he shakes up a Sidecar. “Did you get a chance to hit the slopes?” "Why yes Horace, I did. I spent a few months in St. Moritz where I had the MOST charming ski instructor,” Grace says with a dreamy look in her eye. Bertie twists her ring around her finger as she jealously listens in.
“You know Grace, I have a friend here tonight that I think you might like, Horace says, giving her a big wink.
“Do tell Horace,” Grace says excitedly. Bertie continues to fidget. This is not working out the way she planned. Grace was supposed to be her ally, not her competition. She blames Horace of course for fawning all over her.
“Sven Wreckiavik“, he says gesturing across the room. “You can’t miss him. He’s the one in the wheelchair. He’s a bit of an adventurist shall we say…fell off a mountain last week but he’s a quick healer.” A very handsome Sven sees Horace pointing and starts to wheel over. Bertie grumbles into her drink, “Yeah Grace, if you’re nice maybe he’ll ask you to dance.”
NEW YEARS EVE: There’s a party at the Groomsby’s. A small affair, just Bertie and the Humphrey sisters, but Agnes always has to put on the dog. After a fabulous dinner, Horace shuffles everyone into the living room while he wheels out his old Victrola. Horace has proclaimed himself the official DJ of New Years. Agnes gracefully sways to the music while Bertie tries her hand at the new craze The Robot. The Humphrey sister’s are mirroring each other in their own made-up dance. "Millie Darling, please don’t step on my toes…” "My goodness Minnie, if you followed my lead I wouldn’t have to step on them. Besides, your sausage toes are stretching out my shoes you borrowed!” "Oh Mill, why did you have to say sausage..now I’m hungry again.”
DANCING TREES: Horace tilts his head way back to get the full view of a giant yellow tree. “My God Agnes, come look at this. These trees are magnificent.” Agnes is heading over from the car. She’s already taken her shoes off to feel the grass beneath her feet. “Oh Horace, you are so right, absolutely beautiful.” The wind picks up and the trees start swaying back and forth. “..and they’re dancing”, she quickly adds. Not to be outdone by a tree, Horace scoops up Agnes and begins his version of a waltz. "Horace, you’re crazy. There isn’t even any music.” "Well then, you better start singing.” he says. He twirls her around the trees and then goes for a big dip. Unfortunately, between their forward momentum, and a heavy gust of wind, they both fall over. They are all tangled up and laughing hysterically. As he helps her to her feet he pronounces, “I guess I need to take another class at Arthur Murray, or at the very least, a trip to the gym.”
(Photos, Asia Kepka Lynn Dowling; via Slate)