Creating the Freedom

R. Tom Gilleon’s art imparts the awareness of what it means to be entitled to peace. In the long, dry draw of the soil, west of Cascade, there is the unconstrained stillness of the contiguous buttes, the almost heroic-looking profile of Mt. Cecelia.
 

There is the silence of the free terrain where more than a century ago, the shotgun-toting, cigar-smoking former slave “Stagecoach” Mary Fields delivered mail and the Old North Trail, which was followed and zigzagged for thousands of years by Indians. (Ruts of stagecoach wagons mark nearby hills and tipi rings are ever-present.)  
 

There is broad, free daylight outside, with the sun shining, and there is semblance of peace radiating from Gideon’s studio, modern, clean, enveloped by a tarnished coppered façade. The sunlight is really there inside – he has created it through the expression of palettes, colors, and paints, and also drawn from it as a tender intermediary. After all, what else can the artist do but receive the light?
 

Here, Gilleon, understanding that no artist can grow if they remain closed, is open to new perceptions, new ideas, and new insights. Daily, he ends up fully open to exploratory premises: landscapes; Native American visages of warriors; brilliant contrasts of landmarks and symbols; decorative tipi lodges; the conflicting roles of war and peace in native society; rock faces reflecting glowing sunsets into deep pools; the tipi as a temple, as well as a home. His library study is buttressed by chunky log remnants surviving from a smokehouse dating back to Charles Marion Russell’s (1864-1926) years spent wintering in the neighboring corral.
 

And the connective thread of Gilleon’s art attaches to the notion that somehow, someway, we can remain connected to the peace of our own pursuits. Gideon adheres to the mantra that imagination is more important than knowledge. “And you can never have enough knowledge,” repeats Tom Gilleon.
 

Indeed, Gilleon’s art is tied to highly specific and resonant moral and emotional journeys, linked to a Western narrative teeming with aesthetic or atmospheric profundity. It is the duality – the tension between the poetic ideal of the past and the lure of contemporary materialism – that dictates the allure. Gilleon has navigated both worlds successfully, phasing out the successful life of the illustrator for the path of the self-governing. He helped design the look of Epcot Center and then Disneyland Paris, Disneyland Tokyo, and Disneyland Hong Kong. Sometime in the early 1980s, Gilleon and his wife attended an outdoor painting workshop in Montana along the Dearborn River – and it recalibrated his idea of happiness. He moved to Montana, supplementing his income working as a mural painter; one of his jobs was completing matte paintings for the movie “Dick Tracy.” Eventually, the Gilleons purchased a ranch near Great Falls with the rounded profile of buttes expanding in the vastness.
 

“Back then (when I worked as an illustrator), art was a way to make a good living,” said Gilleon. “These days, I consider myself a craftsman and I’m escaping for that commercialism, gradually. It’s more about communicating something as an artist and working myself into a situation where I can afford to do what I want to do. Creating the freedom.”
 

As for his resettlement, there were reasons aplenty: 

“I had the intelligence of knowing it's beauty when I saw it. When you are able to find a place, it's like knowing it in your heart instantly. It was like no feeling I ever remember. I knew that this was where I needed to be.”
 

In works such as “Prairie Dare,” Gilleon immortalizes the notoriously fickle and callous weather of the Northern Plains. Constructing anything on the open plains attracts unpredictable fate. Building a tall, narrow grain elevator “is nothing short of a dare,” said Gilleon. 
 

“We are far removed from everything, and out here, you get a good sense of your surroundings and that you are in tune with the feeling that you can die every day out here from something. You could die from the cold easily. Police? You may as well write them a postcard. Fire? We don't have that very close. So, we are not removed from the daily reminder of the life and death experience.”
 

Tipi paintings are the motif most commonly associated with Gilleon, a coupling of serendipitous origins. In the early 1990s, he was working on retainer as an illustrator for Walt Disney’s “Imagineering Studio,” and he had enough free time to stretch out a blank canvas in front of him. Yielding to his artistic vision, he could not resist experimenting with and endlessly tweaking the scope and extent of the tipi. After he finished it, he took it to a gallery in Ennis, MT., where it sold within days. A couple of hundred tipi paintings later, Gideon said that “when galleries approach me about my work, they always say, ‘We absolutely love your diversity of subject matter, but do you have any tipis?”
 

Groups of tipi rings can be found within walking distance of Gilleon’s studio, evidence, he said, “of Plains Indian encampments.” He has slept, sketched, and even meditated, inside the tipi rings.
 

“As far as the type of tipi in a particular place, there were at times several different kinds, and there would be five, six, seven different styles in one village. I try to not just study them, but also keep an open mind.
 

Born in 1942, he was raised in north Florida by his grandparents in a small town called Starke; his granddad was an accomplished Scottish cabinetmaker, his grandmother a full-bloodied Cherokee. Oil on canvas work such as “Going to the Sun,” Gilleon immortalizes a Blackfeet legend who tells of the Sun God ascending the mountain known as Going to the Sun.
 

The highest-grossing living artist in the history of the C.M. Russell Museum, Gilleon is grateful that some of his works have fetched “dead man prices,” as Russell referred to them, desirable amounts not ordinarily obtained by even the most talented artists in their own lifetime.
 

Views of Gilleon’s studio oversee vistas once populated by considerable bison herds, later covered by Lewis and Clark, and, eventually, recorded on canvas by Russell. This humbling, alluring sense of place roots the artist in his sense of mission.
 

"We've considered going to Tuscany for the summer to go paint. But I wonder, 'why go there when I have this?' When I have all of this it would be hard to be away from here for even 10 days. It's gotten harder to make that trade-off. Think about a painter in Southern France, and as beautiful as it is there, imagine if that painter were to leave some village and come to Montana, to visit Little Big Horn, to come paint here. The grass is always greener, right?"
 

Similar to other artists, Gilleon must go through the kinetic process of self-emptying in order to become and stay hale and hearty. His art is physical, mental and even technological: he illustrates models on the computer and then hand-paints on canvas. 
 

“Digital art is fast, but the easel takes several weeks, for several weeks the easel stays in your mind. Technology is one thing. But the ancient art of painting is something else. The tactility of the paint on the canvas and the feel of the canvas – that’s the best feeling.”
 

Art is also the ability to seize the moment and live a life without regrets. It is also a feat of grit and endurance and, in Gilleon’s estimate, the absolute act of reaching far back deeply into the wonder of childhood.
 

“Kids don’t make mistakes in art,” said Gilleon. “Everything is right. A good piece of advice would be, ‘Work as hard for the next 75 years to be as good as you were when you were four.”
 

Rooted in the fundamental energy of a creativity that has forever been underlying his existence, Gilleon plots his next idea.
 

In becoming more conscious of the full range of his thoughts and feelings, he inevitably has become less threatened by the knowledge of his flaws and can now more readily integrate and appreciate the whole of who he is.

When he acknowledges his imperfections, he finds himself in a better position to work on those areas within his power to change and to accept those things he cannot. 
 

“Art, as they say, is the pursuit of imperfection,” said Gideon. 

 

BrianBrian D'Ambrosio is a writer/editor living in Missoula, Montana. D'Ambrosio is the author of more than 300 articles and five books related to Montana history, people, and travel.

Montana Spring

By Angela Jamison

Spring in Montana can break your heart.  One day you are pulling out the patio furniture and the next you are scraping the ice off your windshield.  I used to resent this heartbreak I felt each spring.  I wondered why I would continue to live in a place that repeatedly hurt you each year.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve gotten older (and hopefully wiser) but I no longer feel this way.  Rather than getting my hopes up and then crushed every spring I have begun to embrace it for what it is.  
 

As the snow begins to melt, fresh green grass starts to appear.  Buds show up on trees, the robins return and tulips push their way through the thawed out ground.  These signs begin the initial tease of the season.  The excitement starts to build with each finding.  Before I would be sad when the spring snow storm inevitably dumps and covers all these signs.  Now I see them, know it is not here to stay quite yet and let this sustain me.  I take the happiness I feel when I spot that first robin or flower and tuck it somewhere inside, knowing the snow is temporary.  I can take the small moments and remember they will get longer and the warmth will continue to grow.  I will remind myself the snow will melt quickly and is simply adding extra moisture to ensure a good summer to come.  A summer that will hopefully be without forest fires that put a damper on camping season.  I look for the good in the April snowstorm rather than being upset by it.  
 

While I often look at people who live in warm or tropical climates with envy, I know they cannot appreciate the change in seasons like Montanan’s do.  Their days blend from one week to the next, to a month with little change.  Some places having two seasons…hot and unbearably hot.  Without this change life sort of just goes on and on.  Around here we notice things.  We appreciate the snow melting away to reveal good things underneath.  We can look at our mountains and see them turn from brilliant white to shades of blue and green and know good things are coming.  We understand the value of a 60-degree day in March and we fully embrace it.  Whether it’s by getting your bikes out or sitting on a patio at a brewery with friends, everyone incredibly happy after the hibernation of winter.  If it’s just another sunny, hot day much like every day of the year you begin to take it for granted.  I am grateful to live in a place where everyone appreciates the little things like warm sunshine.  We all know we have survived a hard, cold winter and by turning your face to the sun and feeling heat after months of chill  you can fill up to get through the ups and downs of a Montana spring until summer makes its beautiful appearance.  
 

That’s not say I don’t have my moments of disappointment when a warm spring day is followed by a sudden drop in temperatures.  When color was just returning to our valley and then is covered in white again over night.  Rather, I have changed how I react to it.  With a gentle reminder that it shall pass quickly.  Unlike the first snowstorm of the season that hints at a long winter season to come, a spring snow storm is a brief setback before the best season in Montana can be welcomed to our valley.  

 

AngelaAngela Jamison is a native Montanan and she grew up in beautiful Bozeman. I'm the mother of two girls and write a blog about our life here and taking in the simple pleasures of family and food.

http://www.rdeliciouslife.blogspot.com/

Road Trips and Animal Tails

By MaryLou Bohenek


We often go on weekend drives looking at beautiful landscapes and hoping to be lucky enough to see wildlife.  You see, I am a wildlife and landscape photographer.


In Montana, we are blessed to have such beauty and awe all around us, it’s difficult not to take photos.  Living in Missoula we had our favorite “spots.”  The National Bison Range is one of them.  The wildlife is protected there.  Bison, antelope, deer and elk are free to roam.  I have photographed these animals.  Many times, we didn’t see much but the ride is a beautiful one.  Coming from Long Island, NY, I can tell you that I was awestruck by the Mission Mountain Range.  It still humbles me every time I drive along Highway 93.


I have a thing for Moose but that’s another story. We have deer right in Missoula.  They’d visit, eat your plants and go on their merry way leaving their “business cards” behind…pellets of poop.  It was amazing to watch them.  Being so used to the deer in town, I wasn’t too interested in taking photos.  I’m sorry I missed seeing my husband come face-to-face with a buck in our front yard.  They scared each other and the buck took off and knocked down a piece of decorative fence. I started putting silk flowers in the flower pots so they wouldn’t eat the real ones.  Every morning, I’d look out and see the silk flowers all over the ground.  I guess they didn’t like them. I was amused but I don’t think they were.  Every year my daughter plants flowers all over her yard.  The deer love her “buffet” every year.  She’s not too amused.  They even walk in the middle of the street blocking her way when she comes home from work.  Well, enough about the deer in Missoula.


Meanwhile, back to the Bison Range.  I have been close to the bison and have taken many pictures of them.  They are a sight to behold!  Antelopes have “posed” for me and the deer and smaller critters, too.  And then…elk.  Beautiful, majestic and a sight to behold.  They were always just a little bit too far to get great shots.  Thanks to my tenacity, tripod and camera lenses, I’ve been fortunate to take many great pictures. Every year we would go in the Fall and Spring.  It was amazing to see the difference in their raggedy hide in Spring compared to the thick and beautiful coats that covered them in late Summer and Fall.  I always have my camera ready.  We came across fields where the cows (female elk) were grazing and all grouped as if they were having a ladies’ tea party.


Hum…no bucks.  As we traveled further down the road we came across “the boys.”


They were hanging out and looking fine!  With all their splendor, they were gearing up for the rut.  That was a great day and I took so many photos. I felt so blessed to see all the elk.


After our luck in coming across the elk, we decided to take another weekend road trip.  It seems like they had their special spots, too.  The girls were still hanging out together in the same field.  We continued along the road and low and behold, there were some bull elks.  This time they were by a creek across from the road. There wasn’t a lot of them. In fact, I could only see one drinking water from the creek. My husband set up my tripod while I got my camera set.  The bull had a massive set of antlers and he had his head in the water. I went close to the opposite side of the creek and starting shooting.  He casually looked up at us and then went back to his feeding and drinking.  Boy, I was sure pleased to have the honor of seeing him so close.  To my surprise, down from a slight hillside towards the water there came another bull with huge antlers.  Not a minute later down came another bull also with a huge rack.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  There they were, three bulls standing in the creek.  While the first elk I saw still had his head in the water, the other two sized each other up.  As if, for my attention and pleasure, they began to spar with their massive antlers. It seemed like they were putting on a special show just for us.  I took so many photos.  Shortly, one elk returned to the grassy hillside and out of my sight and then another and another. 


I moved from Long Island, New York to Missoula, Montana in March 1979, to join the rest of my family. I can tell you, it was a culture shock and many times I regretted moving to Montana.  Again, another story but one I will include it in this story.  I must say that when they call it Big Sky Country, they mean it.  I couldn’t deny that I was indeed smitten with the big sky, scenery and…wildlife!  I am not a hunter and I only “shoot” with my camera.  I wasn’t impressed with the lack of stores and availability of things I took for granted.  Of course, all that has changed over the years. I was divorced and had a five-year-old daughter. This was a bonus.  Missoula is a great place to raise children.  My mom, daughter and I took a lot of road trips enjoying the landscaping and wildlife.  In New York, there are deer, black bears and some smaller critters.  


They were in Upstate New York and we had a cabin in the Catskills.   Both of my brothers hunted.  This is just a little information about me and maybe you will understand my enthusiasm about wildlife.


I get excited when I see ducks and geese flying above me.  As many times as I see them I still yell outload, “geese, ducks, deer” you name it.  It makes my heart beat a little faster.  The first time I saw Bald Eagles feeding on salmon by Glacier National Park, I became overwhelmed and cried. 


On another trip to the Bison Range in the Fall during rutting season, my husband and I pulled our vehicle to the side of the road because we saw elk.  Tripod and camera…got it!  Because we were on the side of the road other visitors began to stop.  I kind of wish they hadn’t.  I started making bugling sounds to get the elks’ attention.  Well I’ll be darned; my husband walked away like he didn’t know me.  The people were all watching me and the elk.  I got the elks’ attention though and I’m sure glad I did.  This was about THE most exciting thing I’ve ever seen and heard. One of the elk walked away from the herd, took a mighty stance, held his head up and bugled. For me, I witnessed something magical.  It is something I will never forget.  And, yes, I cried with such gratitude to God for blessing me with this experience.  I get to look back at all my photos and remember how much joy they brought to me when I took them.


In 2013, my husband’s employment took us to Idaho Falls, Idaho.  There were no deer and I was homesick.  My husband bought concrete deer for our front yard.  They are quite large and there is a buck, a deer and a fawn. My neighbors enjoyed them and so did I but it was not the same.  

We had to take trips to Jackson, Wyoming and Yellowstone to see wildlife. I loved those trips.  It’s so beautiful in the Winter. During one of our Summer trips, I had the opportunity to see my favorite wild animal…the mighty moose!  More photos and more memories. 


It was during our time in Idaho Falls that I realized just how much I loved Montana.  We moved back to Montana in April 2016, this time to Helena. Somewhere online I came across the following.  I do not know who the author is but it accurately describes how I feel:


“Montana: a state that gets so deep into your soul that it hurts when you’re away from it.”

I’m home.


 

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