butterflies and anvils summer issue is here! 


featuring artist lesley kerr, articles on creativity, dreams and love, daily haikus, fabulous summer images and so much more! and as always, thanks so much for supporting butterflies and anvils! preview the summer issue from the link above!


summer harvest. i used to live in richmond, virginia where we harvested tomatoes from july to october. but here in montana, gardening's a bit different - i'm learning. and today, i found these four red, beautiful plump tomatoes, hiding in the mass of tomato plants. alongside those bundles of red love...garden broccoli, walla walla onions, snap peas, spicy arugula and fun purple beans. also some coriander from cilantro that went to seed. oh, summer! don't leave yet!


sneak peak! butterflies and anvils featured artist, lesley kerr. check out lesley's beautiful work and inspiring projects. summer issue out next week!

and once again, thanks for all your support!


some days work feels like work, right? but other days, work is just pure fun and oh so satisfying.

monday started out picking backyard cherries with two of my favorite boys in the world (one man, one dog). then my job was to drive through the beautiful flathead valley, photographing for the next issue of butterflies and anvils. stopping at roadside stands along the big, blue flathead lake to eat and shoot big, luscious flathead cherries. after photographing many cherry orchards and quaint towns along the lake, i headed back to missoula to see my students and give one of my favorite lectures about the business side of art. a wonderful day and i am thankful for what i do.

talking with you.
about the state of the world.
and where we fit in.
crunching leaves...

moving through. simply.

airplane graveyard.
you stand among the ruins.
delicate and hopeful and young. busted up fuselage. your dress so fitted and pressed.
motionless. burned out wings.
not knowing if the remains are yours.
injured girl.
rusting yellow metal in heaps. lush green grass grows around you. as the bright country sun lights up your hair.
sun flare obscures your face and shoulder.
but you remain.
a giant among the battered pieces.
of this airplane graveyard.
and your world.

once we were best friends. without even knowing.
it's your turn to turn off the light.

once we were alike. without even knowing.
watching thunderstorms on the patio.

once we were confidantes. without even knowing.
we didn’t know what secrets were.

once we were happy. without even knowing.
that goodness meant we were together.

. you whispered. i heard it. i am sure.

grow. i whispered back. on the breeze that blew between us.

grow. i feel it. but i sit here in defiance.

grow. you know it. and you thrust out your shoots, without intention.

grow. i want it. but i am swimming in the thickest sea.

grow. you must. so you reach through the power lines for your sky.

grow. i can. but these tendrils hold me to this merciless earth.

grow. you will. and i’ll look for shelter below you.

grow. i will. but first let me rest my body against you.

grow. you have. and i cannot imagine this world without you.

grow. i am trying. but i cannot keep up with you.

grow. you show me. let me learn from your strength.

grow. i whispered. did i hear it? i am sure.