• Boulder Watershed: From Mt. Arikaree, looking North along the Continental Divide to Mt. Navaho and the distant Longs Peak.
  • The surest task of an artist is the making of a self that has the capacity to create, and directing this creative capacity toward a significant direction. This task must be approached with great patience and commitment, understanding that self-as-artist is an every day & lifelong pursuit.

    This making of self has meant finding what leads me, and pursuing the thread of that lead. Immersion in and appreciation of Nature has been a constant pursuit, twin to my pursuit of the arts, assuring that art and life retain the living quality of intuitive response.
    Immersion in nature was, for a time, of  a magnitude of order beyond what is normally possible. Through my late teens and all through my 20's my summers were on the Continental Divide above Boudler, Colorado at the Boulder Watershed.  Most of those 12 summers were spent as Patrol/Caretaker, hiking the 8,000 acre property and keeping it free of all human trespassers. Two glacial valleys, 14 lakes, 5 thirteen thousand foot peaks, a herd of 70 elk, moose, bear, mountain lions, Golden Eagles, Pica, Pine Martens, and Cutthroat Trout- I was the land's protector covering 10 to 20 miles per day, with elevation gains and losses of more than 10,000 feet, mostly in the back country with no trails. This experience allowed a creative wayfinding that has allowed me to navigate the arts in a manner that listens with an intuition for intuition. 

    My work draws from years of immersion in the alpine landscape, and while this experience is not rendered literally, it informs my approach to the human body as natural form. This process is intuitive, based upon a life-long exploration of media and the figure. In the way of constant walking- through forests, fording rivers, over mountains, the practice of the figure acts as a vehicle for artistic exploration, rather than an end in itself.
  • Boulder Watershed:
    Sunset on North Arapaho, standing on Mt. Arikaree. Image mirrored due to slide reversal.
  • Boulder Watershed: Arapahoe Glacier spanning between North and South Arapahoe (this image is from a slide that was reversed).
  • Boulder Watershed:
    Storm on Arapahoe Glacier pushes rain down the valley and forms a rainbow spanning the entire valley. This view is from Silver Lake, just out the door from the bunkhouse.
  • If I want to make a claim of identifying with Nature, then I also must include my cattle-ranching father up in the wilds of Montana working  the family homestead ranch he grew up on. The following images give a small window into a realm of being that is lost to the modern experience.
  • Small oil portrait of my sister and I with our Father, visiting in 1979 from Colorado where we lived with our mother & second step-father. This painting was completed in 2009 while living with him in Hospice care. I painted it at his bedside as a last work for him.
  • Cow and calf pair in early summer, halfway to the high meadows.
  • The corrals and barn, with grasses filling in.
  • The place gets a little scruffy and overgrown standing empty all year round, giving me lots to do.
  • My great grandparents homesteading the land in the late 1800's.
  • My father out with the horses around 1940. His first time off the ranch he was around 5 years old.
  • he would saddle up his paint near sunset in summers and ride the high ridges, watching the sun set behind the distant Rocky Mountains and returning in the soft twilight.
  • Graduated from High School, he will soon head to Denver for electrical trade school, and return to start a business with GE in Billings, MT. He won't return to live at the ranch again til 1978 to begin his own pure-bred Angus herd.
  • A cancer survivor, back on his feet at the ranch at the new split-rail fence my sister and I put in out front.
  • Every winter and into spring is calving season. Being a good shepherd makes for gentle and happy cows.
  • Two new calves have grown large by July, with a good old cow keeping an eye on them.
  • Grass fed and mountain strong.
  • The lower valley.
  • This upper pasture drops a few thousand feet in elevation, and back up the opposite side. All full of wildflowers, springs, forests, deer, bear, elk, eagles, and sometimes a wolf.
  • This is from about the same spot as the last picture, but in December. The highest continually open paved pass in the state is just a 15 minute drive off the right side of the picture.
  • Cattle need to be fed twice a day, all winter long. A 4-wheel drive tractor comes in handy.
  • The ladies are always hungry this time of year.
  • The ladies wait for me to cut the twine so the hay can be rolled out.
  • My dad cuts the twine as the ladies break cover for dinner.
  • A new calf gets a ride into the barn. The mother will follow, and they will be safe from the sub-zero nights.
  • When my father was a kid, it snowed so much his brothers had to climb out of the second story windows, put on skis, and pull hay on sleds to the herd. So this is just a little skiff...
  • During a visit to the ranch my dad decided he wanted a sign to span his driveway. We headed into the forest and found a tall straight pine, brought it down and delivered it over to an old lumber mill where it was planed. Then we borrowed a plunge router from a neighbor and I drew up the letters and carved them in. The brand is burned onto each side.
  • The last trail ride moving my father's Black Angus mixed in with our renter's Herefords.
  • An amazing ability for tinkering on old machinery picked up at auction, i.e. a bailer with the swather just behind, is how one feller can keep everything rolling.
  • Global warming has effected swathing hay, where my father had to upgrade to an enclosed air-conditioned rig. This open John Deer was his favorite swather back when the world was still cool.
  • Ben the cattle dog making sure the bails stay round.
  • One of the high hay fields with bails all rolled in time for sunset.
  • Afternoon thunder storms keep things green.
  • Alpine wild flowers bloom everywhere.This is the view to the South, toward the Little Belt Mountains.
  • This is the view to the North, toward Butte and the plain of the Missouri River, and far in the distance- Canada.
  • A twilight thunderstorm in July pulls an ultraviolet triple rainbow as the sun sets behind the Rocky Mountains 70 miles to the West.