Dream About Horse Fall And Painting

Before i begin, i am an artist and used to ride horses. I am at the horse ranch i used to ride. I am there meeting my teacher and people. Then i see a boy there, he is riding a horse. I am talking to him. He was complaining that his teacher (Marjana, she used to be my hore riding teacher) didn't have time for him to teach him, she was everywhere else but with him. I told him that he already knows everything he needs to do. I asked him what level he was at, and he told me he is level 7, it was like how many hours per year do you have, around 100 per year. So 720 hours of riding so far. This is quiet high level already, already a professional. I told him based on that, that he doesn't need a teacher Marjana is, he already knows what he needs to do. Practice the basics, practice what you know you need to practice in order to grow. Boy asked me why am I telling him all of that, how do I know all of that? He asked me, do I even ride? He seemed not to trust 100% in my words. I understand. He asked me if I would even ride. I began telling him that yes, indeed I do ride, but not anymore. He asked why, and I began to tell him about my accident which I had over the summer. It was at that point that the horse he was sitting on spooked and began to run. The boy could not hold himself on top of the horse and fell down and hurt himself. I ran up to him, I felt shocked and tried to help him. He was injured. He is on the ground in a fetal position. He lengthens his leg, he is in pain, but the moment he stretches the leg to the maximum, he feels intense relief. I want to make sure he is alright, i ask him how he is, I ask him his name, something starting with an N, I ask him his age (he is 7-8), and I ask him why he is here, and he tells me he was there to ride a horse. At that point I am relieved that the boy is ok with head and that everything is ok. Now is my time to find help. At that point I see the teacher, people and his father walking on the road. I called them. His father goes angry and mad that his boy has fallen. He begins to tell how he doesn't know how to ride, I am angry that the father is mad at his boy for an accident where the wild horse went insanely hard, and the boy couldn't handle it, these things happen. I decided that I will fight for the boy. The father was a very very tall, and very strong man. I got angry at the father and told him: can't you see the boy! He is hurt, and all you care about is how is riding! Because of father's anger and strength and size, women on the side were a little bit in awe that i am resisting this father. And at that point father seemed to realize that he was wrong. He began to paint a picture, and the painting was about the way one should ride. And the father was painting a perfect painting of perfect riding, but since i told him that accidents happen, he understood that in his heart, and in the middle began to change the painting. He added darkness and blood and accidents. There were bloody and dark trees, not just sunny and pretty. I got angry again, why is the father painting a picture, where his boy is laying on the ground? I told him again, why are you painting a picture, when your boy is laying on the ground. I told myself that I will fight for this boy till the very end. His life is fading, and there is no time to waste. There will be a time when the boy will be gone. So I took out a lighter and set the painting on fire.