I ask george winston to tell me about “the mountain winds call your name” from his 2004 cd, montana, a love story. this tune, track eleven, is the one that arrests my distraction.

The hamlet of roberts, montana, counts roughly 400 souls. sleepy horses on sunny pastures dreamily lift their heads as i drive by.  ranch houses sit well away from the road and blend into peaceful country scenery. mountains line the horizon.  red lodge with its gift stores, galleries, banks and restaurants, is safely 13 miles up the road. here in roberts, nobody is in a hurry. i slow the car. the old man on the porch across the road smiles, waves. i can feel the spirit of history in this place as i lower the car window and smell warm sage brush. of course, this used to be indian country. crow territory, to be precise. sacred hunting grounds of the apsaalooke. would i hear their drums if i closed my eyes? turning corners, i look for kevin red star’s studio.

On higgins avenue, just south of broadway, a sandwich board, painted by bob phinney that depicts the dana from a street view, beckons.  the large storefront window bursts with color. carol spielman’s almost life-sized horses in warm, textured background placed alongside the glossy colored steel patchwork of one of bill drum’s buffalo statues.

Fine art painter diana tremaine grew up influenced by her aunt and uncle’s well-known contemporary art collection.  but it wasn’t the paintings per se that instilled a love of beauty in her. it was listening to her aunt talk about the work.

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