Seasonal Ritual

In the enchanting glow of tree lights and the nostalgia-laden hum of Christmas carols, I find myself enveloped in the warmth of memories, with my mother's spirit embracing me most tenderly during this magical season. Christmas was her time to shine, and the air still carries echoes of her laughter and the rustle of wrapping paper.

Before dawn tiptoes into the room, I retreat to the antique desk, a relic that my father and I restored together. A soft glow emanates from the lights of the Christmas tree, casting a gentle ambiance on my quiet morning ritual. There, by the flickering lights, I open my journal and find solace.

In the delicate stillness, I light a candle in my mother's cherished porcelain ashtray. The golden bird, poised on the edge of a pink blush bloom, is almost too beautiful for lipstick-stained cigarettes but, of course, perfect for my mother. It's a treasure which sits this morning next to a small porcelain cup adorned with a whimsical rabbit—a token from my adventures in Japan many moons ago.

Dried rose petals, a tender reminder of fleeting beauty, float gracefully in the velvety darkness of ceremonial chocolate, crafted with care by Guatemalan women and prepared by me each morning with intention and reverence for the subtle plant medicine and female lineage. The air is infused with the rich aroma, creating a delicate dance of scents and memories. I am transported to the heart of the holiday season, surrounded by the essence of love, tradition, and the enduring spirit of my mother.

Lady Tatterley

Her tattered right ear inspired her name. Remarkably bold, Lady Tatterley is a rather tough regal and demanding o'l gal. She's been in our life up here at the end of the road near the top of this mountain for quite a few years. We LOVE her. Don’t you?

Glorious Commute

Sooooooooo blessed….

Happy Birthday Cliff

Cliff and I would celebrate his birthday each year in the tiny intimate o’l bar lounge back of the dining room at Chico. We’d share appetizers. Oysters Rockefeller and “Green Cheese” were the headliners. Green cheese was his name for Brie as he misunderstood me the first we had it up here in this cabin on the mountain. Like most “Cliff-isms” the name stuck and so it was and still is Green Cheese.

I’d splurged then, when I brought Brie home that first time (which he loved but which of course didn’t compete with the pastry wrapped, huckleberry sauce embellished Brie that Chico’s menu faithfully offered). Those birthday dinners were special.

His birthday is still special and celebrated throughout the season. Autumn always ushers in extra “Cliffness.” His favorite time of year - as the light and air change, the leaves explode into richness and crispness, the stars shine brighter and the weather gets moodier - I hike his places and feel his graces. I cry. I smile. I talk to him. I feel him -more each year (thankfully).

My reverence for this mountain, the love we shared for Momma Nature, the respect we had of each other’s nature, the deep friendship and forever love we have - Precious.

Happy Birthday Cliff

10/21/47 - 5/1/16

Studio visit and sleepover

When one of your absolute MOST favorite painters invites you to his studio to paint and learn from his vast experience - you pack your bags and Snoopy Dance your way across Montana mountain passes to indulge in wisdom and inspiration (plus a fabulous sleepover to deepen the experience and time together). Kat provided made-with-love dishes and the cranes provided a sunrise serenade as I snuggled beneath cozy covers in their artful home.

Six High Places - final summit

Bella is the daughter of a dear friend. She’s a beautiful bright seventeen year old with a wise heart and keen observational skills. Such a dear. When her mother couldn’t accompany her to the final summit performance by Carrie and Genevieve (violinist and ballerina) - I gladly got up at 4am to meet Bella and venture to the summit of South Baldy in the Tobacco Root mountains in time for a candid mountaintop embracing photo before others arrived for an unforgettable artistic performance where Genevieve found a rock large and flat enough to perform “on point” in her tattered pink ballet shoes.

Walking Down the Aisle

During the few months leading up to our big day, I imagined the moment when Cliff would walk me down the aisle. I would lean into him as I’d done for the better part of my adult life. He would offer his never-in-a-gym bulging mountain man arm for me to wrap into. He would have said something “Cliffy” in that moment meant only for me but loud enough for the guests, the birds and the bears to hear. Whatever he uttered would have been unpredictable with the exception of the inevitable endearment “Honey” spoken like a punctuation point; laden and dripping with golden sweet richness.

Guests wrote on prayer flags and tied them to the Aspen tree under which Cliff and I would have begun the wedding walk together. Strips of wispy white cotton blasted prayers, love and grace which emboldened the steps I took alone.

Not alone.

Despite many kind offers to walk me down the aisle no one could have taken Cliff’s place.

Musical notes leapt from Leslie’s violin and danced with birdsong. I began the walk, seven years ago today.

Two Peaks, Two Peeps and Two Dogs...

We shared our tent with Tala and Josi, got up before dawn to summit a few peaks in the Tobacco Root Mountains. Glorious…

Spring Sunrise

Tala and I enjoy our early morning hikes on the mountain. The “antlered ones” are in velvet, tiny bambi’s and an occasional bear greet us here and there during our wanderings accompanied by wildflowers and birdsong.

Tala posing near our humble cabin home.

Season's First Summit

BEAUTIFUL and stunningly memorable summit shared with a dear friend - AND a violinist and ballerina who performed on the summit.

Carrie Krause and Genevieve Tygstad-Burke perform on top of Blackmore Peak (see article here)

On the easel

Experimenting in the studio and here on the blog (as I rarely show unfinished paintings). But here is one that hasn’t quite found it’s final finesse…

BIG "Little" Soren at the Eaglemount Playground

Years ago I created a very special palm-size bronze eaglet sculpture for Eaglemount - a near-and-dear-to-my-heart non-profit. The little sculpture was named after an inspiring youngster who lost his life to cancer. The “little eaglet who could” sculpture continues to help raise funds for Eaglemount. A few years later I was commissioned to create a large version of the little bugger for Eaglemount’s new playground. We visited recently for a community event when Raymond snapped this candid photo.

Sculpture in the Park

Declared by WOOD magazine one of “America’s Woodworking Greats,” Amber Jean was asked by the prime minister of Bhutan to carve an art piece for the retreat palace of the country’s king. Her bronzes are cast from carved wood, such as the life-size bison sculpture at the Bozeman International Airport in Montana. She was voted one of the “Top 25” out of 1500 artists from fifty-three countries at the ArtPrize Competition and Festival in Grand Rapids, Michigan. She is also one of ten women inducted into the Stetson Craftsman’s Alliance. Her work is featured on the Wood Sculpting TV series produced by DIY, and on the Oxygen Network Pure Oxygen show. Her palm-size animal sculptures cast in solid bronze are collected worldwide.

“Spring” - carved in wood and cast in a limited edition bronze

Encouraged by two of the talented artists who work at the foundry in Loveland (where my sculptures are cast in bronze) “Sculpture in the Park” is the largest juried bronze sculpture show in the states. Raymond and I will travel to Loveland next month for the show.

Bozeman Art Museum - "Sacred Roots" exhibit

What a beautiful show….!

Honored to be included in a show with artists such as Debbie Butterfield and others…

Sacred Roots

“Secret Miracles at Work” was the very first reliquary tree sculpture. Daisy let me work in Freeman’s studio back then. I’d had this vision of opening trees…the niche and the hinges were essential clear-to-me basics of the vision.

Three eggs; nested - were an image that appeared three totally different occasions in various ways that couldn’t be ignored and offered a starting point. Four more reliquary trees completed the first series. This first sculpture in the first series was the beginning yet it was also a punctuation point for me as the idea of adding my grandmother’s lingerie persisted ‘til I listened; finally adding the lacy embellishment as the final touch to this piece upon completing the series.

“Sacred Roots” is the compelling title of the current exhibition at the Bozeman Art Museum in which I’m honored to have been asked to show along with the compelling artworks of many artists whom I admire in a theme near and dear to my heart.

“Secret Miracles at Work” - the very first tree reliquary

Color upon color...

Know that you can go within and listen…

Reliquary Trees

Intermingled stories (each tree and my own)

Listening. Looking. Connecting. Revealing. Journey. Prayer.

“Reliquary Tree Sculptures”

Ray's Memorial

I wore mother’s wedding ring, my owl Cliff ring, my aunt Nora’s custom made-for-her hat, a dress Raymond brought home for me from bull fighting school, a handmade deer skin blazer which has its own special story, earrings my niece made, a gemstone necklace and several bracelets gifted from friends and my peace/love boots.

Emotional, spiritual and challenging days like Ray’s memorial, I welcome the energy and comfort felt from the things chosen to wear. The spirit and stories of loved ones attached to the adornments empower and deepen connection. Emboldened with meaning; past and present adds presence.

Ray’s memorial service was the most intentional and beautifully meaningful tribute I’ve witnessed so far in my life. More than four hundred people attended. Through them I was gifted an even deeper insight into the quietly humble yet highly impactful life my father-in-law led. We grieve and we feel blessed.

Rabbits keep multiplying...

The fire in the studio stove crackles with all the enthusiasm of a jazzed up southern Baptist church choir on this Sunday morning. Three feet of fresh fluffy snow drapes our mountaintop in reverent silence. I flow my devotion with color upon color…

My dear father-in-law

My dear sweet, heart-smart, super kind, extraordinarily intelligent and deeply loving Father-in-law slipped away quietly in his sleep at home yesterday morning after a seven year battle with Alzheimer’s.

The candid photo taken by Robert Osborne and published in Osborne’s book “The Cowboys of Montana” is shared here more for the scrawled inscription than the classic image of Ray (although I LOVE the photo).

We’ve been losing Ray bit by bit for longer than I had the privilege of knowing him fully as his PhD self. But the thing with Ray - he was so authentically open, humble, approachable and loving that even a stranger could quickly feel like (or wish they were) kin to this magnetic man. That part of Ray was never lost.

I can not begin to express my honor at being able to call him “Dad” or the depth of my gratitude for the gift of Ray in my life.

Dr. Ray Ansotegui - July 11,1947-March 2,2023