While viewing an enjoyable Zoom by my website hosts today I was inspired to find Western artist, Steve Atkinson, being interviewed along with wife Ann. Born in Ohio, and in Prescott, AZ for many years he developed his art, and style becoming a truly great talent in his genre. I believe he began in illustration and does representational art depicting scenes from yesterday and today. He went west to experience and capture the real cowboy western lifestyle.

 

This led me to ponder my own walk in life and my ongoing journey as an artist. I don't always share that I have actually been a bonafide cowgirl for many decades of my days on earth. I began riding in New Jersey, probably before I could walk, my horsewoman mother teaching me the ropes of riding. Her style was English as she hailed from across the pond herself. I cut my teeth on westerns and by age 2 rocked a large, hand carved, wooden rocking horse on my porch, inching back and forth across the deck while imaging the wild west and playing a 45 record of cowboy songs as I rode. 

 

As one might imagine, my dreams grew larger than life and by age 14 I headed west for the first time, with our 4-H club, to ride at Eaton's iconic guest ranch, the oldest one in Wyoming. I never stopped owning and finding horses to ride, and eventually left California, where my family later transferred to, for Hawaii.  I wore many hats surviving there, and eventually ended up back in cowboy hats, first in the local rodeo on Maui, and later as wife of the manager of Maui's largest cattle ranch. 

 

At one point I figured I might have spent more time on the back of a horse than on my own two feet. I helped with ranch work weekly, and for 10 years was a tour guide and  wrangler on a trail ride for tourists across the ranch lands. It was a life few can really even imagine, and I loved just about every minute of it. Not that it was without hardships and incredibly hard work. 

 

Later I moved to Wyoming and continued in the ranching tradition, raising cattle and horses, and sometimes sheep and goats. More hard work and intense long days. But, oh, the payoff in vistas of vast ranges, mountains, and skies of the wild and wooly west.  I participated in all aspects of the ranch work and chores, often solo if my hubby was off doing some project, with only the assistance of one of the incredible stock dogs we trained. We rode and sold horses, many of them, and it is only a wonder of grace that I never got seriously hurt. 

 

Today people meet me, an artist and musician, and they likely don't suspect the crusty gal who really abides underneath a rather demure exterior. Once in a while I share about my cowgirl days, which are somewhat behind me as the years pile up. More often, I suppose I just let them believe about me what they will. 

 

But as an artist, I am thinking that maybe I should showcase more of the memories and experiences I have had. I am not sure folks would really believe the experiences I've chalked up, so will continue to keep much of it under my crumpled hat. But as I write this, I feel it is an important era to preserve, and will intend to do more western art. 

 

After all, some of the ranch lands I've ridden have already met the challenges of change. Certainly, some of the fantastic cowboys and paniolos I've been blessed to ride beside are gone to the next range in the sky. 

 

I've thought of switching from my beloved Quarter Horses to a Missouri Fox Trotter, a smoother ride for older bones. One day I may just ride a rocker, not a rocking horse, but if I can express a bit of the good life on canvas and in song, I will continue to. Because once a cowgirl, always a cowgirl. 

 

Until we meet again, Happy Trails to You. 

 

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