I woke up this morning to hear the rain on the skylights above my bed. This generally means it’s beginning to warm up in Montana. The snow has been melting out of the back yard. I realized it’s only about 6 weeks until the bulbs will begin to bloom. I miss my garden in the winter and do not realize what a big part of my life it becomes. I put a lot of time in my garden last year and it was stupendous. Gardens take time, and that is the beauty of them. I had visualized what the garden would look like when I was designing the space. I came up with what I called the 10-year plan for it’s creation, but last year I leapt ahead several years. My garden is against a hillside below a vast mountain beyond. I have been digging into the hillside and building retaining walls of concrete stones. I also have an old irrigation ditch that runs through the back yard that used to feed orchards that were once below the property. It now only flows in the summer, I have completely landscaped it to look like a creek. I have beautiful old willow in the back with enormous trunks that look like giant hand emerging from the ground with a bank of cottonwoods beyond them. Raiding everyone’s garden I know last spring I transplanted an entire area of the hillside with about 2000 Lilly of the Valley pips. They took me three days to plant. They did nothing last year, but this year I anticipate that part of the hill be spectacular. I have begun to build cedar fences around the yard and did a great job of keeping the deer out. Last year I began to build low beds of stonewalls to contain the contour of the north side of the building, and nourished and nurtured the Virginia Creeper I transplanted there 15 years ago. It became a massive wall of green completely isolating the yard from my neighbors. I also found a tin of variegated red to white cosmos seeds that I saved from previous years and threw them into the beds creating bursts of color within the green vines. I also managed to expand the irrigation system to the hillside so most everything becomes self-watering. Then in the later part of the summer we excavated where the patio will eventually go and laid a bed of crushed gravel. Of course I have to do everything by hand because it is too narrow to get back there with any kind of equipment. Now you can see why I didn’t have much time to blog. The garden has a restorative power of me. It nurtures me as much as I nurture it.
I see now this project is very much like my garden. As I am beginning to work on it again, I see so much of myself within every element of it. Initially I thought it was about investment, but now I as I look back I realize it’s about something more, my creation. It is more the story of myself, the sharing of my life, and the celebration of my creative existence. I can’t seem to let it go and keep digging at it, as if I were weeding it somehow.
This is an image of Grant looking out the studio window into the garden and the garden as I was beginning to dig the patio.



The journey seems to continue deeper within myself as this last month I have begun connecting to the community that surrounds me and working with some very astonishing people. I miss the daily blog of coming to this page each day, part of what I have been working on it making to old blog more accessible from different points. I am about 2/3rd of the way through creating galleries of the images month by month. It is amazing to see how much was there and is stirring much emotion, still. There seems to be about 500 people per day still access the two blogs, the original and the new site and I feel it’s becoming something important and worth the time I spend on expanding it’s accessibility.
I have been spending more time getting out and meeting new people in my community. Last week I photographed several members of the Imperial Sovereign Court of Montana (royal order of drag impersonators) getting ready for and images of their pageant. I posted them on my Facebook and they were stunning and enlightening. It gave me a stronger bond to my own community that surrounds me and gives me a greater sense of place and home here in Montana. I have also been out meeting, having coffee, and lunch with other members around me. Last night I went out, for a charity show and I finally met Soul Seeker, one of the guys whose manhunt profiles intrigued me into writing a blog about internet cruising sites. It was an amazing moment of coming to flesh of someone who had captivated and inspired me and see the extraordinary intrigue in his eyes, as he seems genuinely pleased to meet me as well. We are so lucky in many ways that we have such an amazing group of people that surround us. Many of us are from Montana, there seems to be such a healthy strength everywhere I look. Most everyone is aware of my project and what I have created and there is a certain pride about it that touches many of them. The project in that sense has become a reflection of my time and era as so many others are also relating to my process.
It is that time of year when all the “Best Of” lists begin to come out. I always loved movies so this was always a fascination for me to review these list to see how my opinions compared to others. This morning I saw my first top list of movies from 2011 on the NPR website. The woman doing the reviews seemed a bit perplexed by the lack of standout movies for the year. She thought it was a year of ambiguity in the industry and there were no major films that really won people over; but mostly split the viewer ship of those who had seen them. As I perused the list I began to realize I had not seen a single movie that was released in 2011. As I began to cut and past titles into Rotten Tomatoes, a movie information site that I used to adore and followed religiously on a daily basis, I realized how much this industry has changed and it was now like navigating a mine field to even find a spot to paste those titles due the site being taken over by a barrage of moving advertising. I worked my way through the list of movies, trying to gain more insight, when an emptiness began to fill the pit of my stomach. There was nothing here that even sounded remotely interesting. That old excitement for finding a rare gem of a film that would challenge the way I saw myself or give me a new perspective on my world, somehow was missing and I began to think back to when was the last time I actually saw a film? The last time I entered a theater was to see Avatar, whenever that was, and I utterly disliked the film and experience I have not been back since. Granted I have taken the year off to become consumed by this project but what has happened to world I once loved so dearly. I guess in a sense it has all come home. I still watch stuff, but when the movie houses become filled with glorified video projectors, and Blu-ray at home outshines them it becomes harder to go sit with a group of strangers who are texting, talking and chewing, to watch a dimly lit presentation, at an exorbitant price for me to even go anymore.
Today I wanted to write about a man to which I owe much of my creative life. His name was Gilbert Millikan, probably one of the greatest champions for arts in the state of Montana. Gilbert passed away in 2003 from brain tumor and I cannot let this year’s project pass without paying a tribute to him.
I began chatting yesterday with a man from Minneapolis Minnesota who was interested in coming to Missoula to go to the Rocky Mountain School of Photography this summer. He is an architect and interested in becoming an architectural photographer. He had lots of questions about the school and about Missoula. Fourteen years ago I made a decision that I too wanted to become a photographer. I had never owned a camera and really never taken photos before. So one summer I enrolled in Rocky Mountain School of Photography summer intensive program, that was then just a few years old then, It was 11-weeks of shooting processing, printing and critiquing. It became a turning point in my life. It was pre-digital then and we learned everything the old fashioned way of exposing film, processing it with chemicals, and printing it our selves in the darkroom. Everyday was a huge leap and everyday we were required to produce one color slide and one mounted black and white print for evaluation. I remember is was frightfully expensive, but for that 11 weeks all I did was eat, drink, create and dream photography. The course then didn’t really lead you toward a professional end, but it gave you a good start, teaching you the fundamentals and pointing you in the direction of where to look for the larger answers. The school still thrives today, though I can’t imagine spending 11 weeks now only on digital. I ended the summer broke, but at least able to shoot with the basic fundamentals of self-expression. That fall built my own darkroom and began to grow from there.

