Welcome to the Blog
Another building slowly fading away in Central Montana
Hanging on to a World that is slipping away
The journey into photography starts with something out of the ordinary. Our everyday world is full of the scenes and shapes that strike our imaginations. The change of a scene — it is something we usually notice. Change is a funny thing. Most of us struggle and don’t always embrace it. We like things as they are.
Ever since covid, my beloved Montana has been transforming. More people moving here. The open spaces feel a little more crowded. Favorite landmarks are torn down in the spirit of progress and opportunity. The places I remember are changing. Probably every generation says that about the “good days long ago.”
I decided to pull out the camera and document the places that have always had a special attraction. The popular 1940s book High, Wide and Handsome described the restless Montana landscape and the unique people that lived here. Times do change, but I think it’s important to remember the past. This blog and the camera will try and document traditions bashing against a brave new world—the “evolving” Montana. My path won’t always be toward the pretty mountains and cool main streets of trendy western Montana. The place — Montana is defined by its big country landscapes. It just seems as if the place feels a little less wild and free as more people move here.
Probably the most telling moment was a chance meeting a couple years ago with a complete stranger at a gas station in Livingston. That’s when when I knew my state had been discovered. A woman asked me about the Paradise Valley and the mountains. She declared that she was leaving Michigan for a new life in Livingston. No family—no job —just a dream to live in Big Sky Country. Bold dreams and big ideas. It’s probably not that much different from the homesteaders who headed West more than a century ago.
I grew up on a ranch in Pony, Montana. A life of fairly hard work and simple living. Fortysomething miles from Bozeman and protected by the Tobacco Root Mountains, this is where my heart felt most at home. A trip “home” in 2025 shook my utopia. A set of old corrals at the summer pasture where we branded and sorted cows was gone. New owners ripped out the wooden pens and built a super home with a fancy driveway protected by a security gate. The kind of change I hate to see.
The website and this blog will try to capture some of the wildness and beauty of Montana — it’s still the last best place. It might not always be perfect. Some of the images might create sadness. I hope I can also find those photos that warms the heart.
Let the journey begin.
