Alright, so this whole “very far away horse” thing, it just kinda popped into my head one afternoon. Don’t ask me why, some ideas just stick, you know? I was staring out the window, probably procrastinating, and bam, this image of a horse, but like, miles and miles off, almost a speck, but still definitely a horse. Weird, I know.

Getting Started, or So I Thought
My first thought was, “Easy peasy.” I figured I’d just grab a tiny toy horse I had from ages ago – one of those little plastic ones – and stick it way at the other end of the room, then take a picture. Zoom in a bit, job done. Well, let me tell you, that looked absolutely rubbish. It just looked like a tiny toy horse, close up, with a blurry room behind it. Not “far away” at all. More like “sad tiny horse on my messy desk.”
So, I scrapped that. Clearly, just physical distance wasn’t the only trick. I started thinking about how things actually look when they’re far away. They get a bit hazy, colors get muted, less detail, right? That’s what I needed to capture.
The Messy Middle Bit
I decided to try drawing it first. I’m no artist, mind you, but I can doodle. I got out some paper and pencils. My first few attempts were just… bad. The horse either looked like a weird blob, or it was too detailed and didn’t feel distant. Frustrating stuff.
Then I remembered something about atmospheric perspective from an old art book I flipped through once. The idea that the air itself has color and makes things in the distance appear lighter and bluer. Okay, new plan!
- I tried using lighter pencil strokes for the “horse.”
- I attempted to add some “haze” by smudging the pencil lines around it. That mostly just made a mess.
- I even tried putting a very faint blue wash over the background with some old watercolors I found, letting it creep over where the horse would be.
This was getting complicated for such a simple idea. I spent a good while just fiddling with layers. I’d draw a faint outline, then try to build up the distant landscape around it, making sure the horse stayed super subtle. It was a lot of trial and error. Lots of erasing, lots of sighing. I probably went through half a dozen sheets of paper.

Lighting became a big deal in my head too, even for a drawing. If it’s far away, the light source would be diffused, right? So, no sharp shadows on my imaginary horse. Everything had to be soft and sort of blended.
Getting Somewhere, Finally
After a bunch of failed sketches, I switched tactics a little. I stopped trying to draw a perfect horse. Instead, I focused on the impression of a horse. A silhouette, really. The key, I figured, was the surrounding environment. If I could make the landscape look vast and distant, then whatever tiny shape I put there would feel like a far away horse.
I started with the horizon line, super low on the paper, to give it that wide-open space feel. Then I built up layers of very light, desaturated colors for hills or plains receding into the distance. I made the stuff in the foreground a bit more detailed and darker, and then progressively lighter and simpler as it went back.
For the horse itself, I ended up using just a few tiny, careful strokes. Almost like a little smudge, but a smudge with a hint of a horsey shape. The trick was not to overdo it. The moment I added too much detail, it popped forward and stopped looking far away.
I even played around with taking a photo of my drawing, but from a slight angle, and then messing with the contrast and brightness on my phone. Trying to make it look even more like it was captured from a great distance through a slightly hazy lens. It was all about layering these little tricks.

So, What About That Horse?
In the end, the final thing I made wasn’t some masterpiece. It was a simple little drawing, probably wouldn’t win any awards. But when I looked at it, I got that feeling. That feeling of a lone horse, way out there in the quiet. It wasn’t just a small horse; it felt like a far away horse. And honestly, that’s all I was after. It was a fun little exercise in figuring things out, messing up, and trying again. Sometimes these silly little projects are the most satisfying, you know?