Self Taught Artist

I find it interesting for an art instructor to actually give grades for something a student creates. What makes it “A” work?...I’m doing just fine with what I’m doing. Grading art is subjective. I'm sure my techniques to some professors would not warrant an A for the class for my work. I have met numerous artists who are not able to shed their art teacher's influences from their work once they have graduated. A friend of mine James Rosenquist had told me once before to stay away from art teachers. James wants me to be untouched and original. After all I’m a self-taught artist, which is bothersome to some in the art academic world. Although getting a college degree in the arts does bring knowledge of history and technique that perhaps one day I can do. I believe I am an artist by birth, not by degree. I may be going at my art career backwards than those at the university. But, it's not like getting a degree in accounting, nursing or computers. "Making it" in the art world takes talent and hard work. I know the importance of a college education and learn vicariously through my artist friends who are professors and students in the art world. One day, I would like to get a degree in college but for now, I'm too busy with my art career. I am going to keep on going forward.

My Nomination for James Rosenquist for the North Dakota Rough Rider Award

March 30, 2010


Dear Governor Hoeven,

I’m writing to support the nomination of artist, James Rosenquist for the Rough Rider Award this year. He is native to North Dakota and has become one of the most prominent American artists of the past sixty years. I believe he is a superb example of the best of North Dakota. He has remained in touch with this area, and in fact, he has generously supported my growth as an artist.

I first met James Rosenquist in 2005 at the Plains Art Museum in Fargo. James was in town to receive his honorary doctorate degree from North Dakota State University. I was introduced to by my friend, Rusty Freeman, who was the curator at the Plains Art Museum. Mr. Rosenquist and I were talking about art in New York City and I told him I was an artist. Out of curiosity, James wanted to come over to my studio and see my artwork. James and I walked over to my small live-in studio right in the middle of his own party. My studio, at the time, wasn’t much at all. It was converted into a studio from an efficiency apartment. When James walked in, he looked at my color pencil drawings and painting and he really took a great interest in my artwork, especially my paintings.

2005 was the year I started to explore painting but due to the great cost, I was limited to a few tubes of paint and some in-expensive pre-stretched canvas. I would often dig in the garbage cans in the back of the NDSU Art Department for something to paint on even if it was cardboard. James Rosenquist saw great potential in my newly formed paintings. He also bought a small painting from me that first evening we met. Before he left my studio, that evening, I told him I wasn’t doing very well with my art career as I was struggling financially. At the time, I didn’t know who he was or his history as a pop artist. Mr. Rosenquist told me has was once in my shoes and that we all have to start somewhere. He told me not to give up and to work hard. After talking to James, my self-esteem greatly increased as a person and as an artist.

One month later, James sent me two rolls of acrylic primed canvas, a box of top quality oil paints and one thousand dollars to get my painting career started. Later that year, James sent me six large boxes of acrylic paint and another thousand dollars for more art supplies where he instructed me on what supplies to buy. In early 2006, I started to paint full-time, but due to the lack of experience I started out slow. James encouraged me during this touch time and I eventually started to learn as time went on. Later in 2007, James purchased three paintings from me and he kept in contact for updates on my progress. I have now completed ten large paintings and another painting in which James has already purchased. He has been showing my paintings to potential art collectors and art galleries in New York City with hopes of an exhibition of my work. James has not only financially supported my art career, he has given me hope and helped me build experience. Each time I receive a call, email or letter from James, I feel a boost in my confidence as an artist with his willingness to share his knowledge with me. I am grateful and honored to have met him and have him as my mentor.

James Rosenquist is a very important figure in North Dakota and has gained national recognition for his accomplishments in art. I hope that the state of North Dakota will honor his achievements by awarding him the Rough Rider Award when he is in Fargo to unveil his mural at the Plains Art Museum this October. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Star Wallowing Bull

My Grandmother

My grandmother quietly passed away last June of 2009 during the White Earth pow-wow season. It came as a sudden surprise to us all. I personally took it hard. I didn't realize how close we were until she passed away, because she was more than my grandmother, she was also a mother figure as she helped raise my sister Fawn and I. The last time I saw her was Mother's Day, 2009. I drove to White Earth, Minnesota from Fargo, North Dakota to take her out to lunch at the Shooting Star Casino for their lunch buffet. My grandmother wasn't a gambler. She just really enjoyed socializing and smoking. I always got a kick out of her stories and gossip she told me. It was funny that people always believed her when she would make up stories about her kids and about people living on the reservation. I always knew she was exaggerating at times, but I enjoyed listening to my grandmother's stories and good humor. After our lunch we sat in her car and talked for an half hour. We started to talk about our relatives who passed away. She often talked about her grandson, my cousin Richard "Weasel" Norcross quite a lot. Weasel accidentally shot himself with a handgun back in 1991. He was my grandmother's favorite grandson. We all took it hard, especially Weasel's mother, my aunt Kathy Big Bear. My grandmother said that she was excited to see him and her other relatives when she would pass away. She also said she wanted to come and visit me after she passed away, just to let me know she was okay. I told her to "stop talking like that! You're not going to die anytime soon Grandma!" She seemed to be in good health and was only seventy eight years old. I went back to Fargo and I continued to keep in touch with her on the phone.

A month later, I was saddened by the news that my grandmother passed away due to her heart valve that gave out that was replaced ten years ago and the doctors told her at her age now, it was too big of a risk to replace it with a new valve. She was buried in Pine Point, Minnesota on the White Earth Reservation. Soon after the funeral, I started to sense my grandmother's presence on three occasions. The first time, I was at my drawing table and I felt like my grandmother was watching me draw and the following next week I sensed her again while painting. The last time, I was drawing and I smelled a strong odor of Aqua Net hair spray! I opened the door to my studio and smelled the hallway thinking it was one of the neighbors. I didn't smell anything, so I went back in and I could still smell it in my studio. My grandmother had used Aqua Net hair spray since I was a little boy. It's a smell that I'm very familiar with and I was really spooked out! The smell of hair spray soon disappeared.

I started to have dreams of my loved ones who passed away during my grandmother's passing. My best friend in grade school through Jr.High, Dale "Diggy" Butler, came to visit me in my dream. In the dream, Diggy was living in the woods by the Mississippi river in Minneapolis. He had squirrels, raccoons and rats living with him in a cardboard fort. Diggy was very happy to see me. My friend Diggy was fatally shot by gang members in Minneapolis in the early 1990's.

My cousin Marcel White Bird came to visit me in my dreams periodically after my grandmother passed away as well. In the dreams, Marcel seemed always happy to see me as I was to see him too. We would run through the woods of the Mississippi banks together only as children. Those were some of our most adventurous times in our lives growing up together.

My cousin Richard "Weasel" Norcross accidentally shot himself with a gunshot wound to the head in 1990. In my dream he was lying in bed in the hospital and as I was standing over his bed, he woke up and looked right at me. Weasel said, "I am alright" and slowly smiled at me. I was startled by his gaze and started to cry extremely hard because he was alive. Weasel wanted me to take him to a Pow-Wow so he could dance and he suddenly appeared with full dancing regalia, bells and feathers. I walked him out of the hospital but he seemed to be slow with his speech, body movement and barely made facial expression. I knew he was there but he was different like the gunshot wound to the head physically affected him in the after life.

The last and final dream of my grandmother came one month after she passed away. I was walking towards an old temple ruin with lush green vegetation. The temple looked like something you would see in Central America. As I came closer, I walked into the temple and saw torches on the wall that lit a long hallway. At the end of this hallway was my grandmother. She was sitting on a wooden chair. She stood up with her arms reaching out for me. I started to cry really hard. We hugged each other and she had told me she was alright and she loved me. My grandmother gave me a small gold bar (I still don't know what that small gold bar symbolized) and then she simply left.

These dreams felt so real to me.

I woke up crying extremely hard and I startled my girlfriend. I haven't cried like that since I was a boy. My heart was pounding hard and I was overwhelmed with love and the sad loss of losing my grandmother again. My girlfriend comforted me that morning and she said," Your grandmother was saying her final goodbye to you and she knew you would be o.k.". Since then, I haven't dreamed of my grandmother since then. I don't feel her presence anymore.

All the dreams I was having of my loved ones are gone as well. They seemed to have just vanished from my dreams and they have all moved on. I have been affected deeply by my grandmother's love throughout my years and the friendships of my other family and friends who have all passed away. I am told I have a gift to remember my dreams so distinctly, and I am honored that these and other people have come to visit me in my dreams. But most of all, it is my everlasting love that I have for my grandmother, that I know she is looking down on me, perhaps whispering in my ear words of encouragement as I would only know.

Star Wallowing Bull: Born with a Gift

When one artist writes about another artist, they often look for the common ground between them. This gives a place to begin. No one can fathom the depths of the artist's soul, nor cover the whole of their intent; nor would we want to, especially given that these post-modern times frown on that.

But there is a place that resides in the air between artists, from one artist to another, in that intellectual private space that bonds one artist to another, in which we artists want to know more. We want to know the whys and wherefores. We want to know what took that artist on their private journey.
Maybe this is part of the fourth dimension. For, surely, the artist enters another space or world in the act of creating. S/he draws on all past experience from birth to the present, all memory, sights, sounds, and smells become part of the creation process. Any artist, worth their salt, must concentrate with the outer limits of their being and thus in this act, the infinite world succumbs to a low level fringe of the artist's realm.
In what seems a narrowing of focus, abandonment of responsibility and perhaps free fall of consciousness, becomes a space of infinite possibilities and limited construct depending on the artist's mindset.
The rigorous artist who follows this path becomes a subset of mainstream cultures, a marginalized human in today's industrialized, corporate world, but in reality a subset of culture that is as old as time.

In old times, the artists were the keepers of memory, the recorders of events, the markmakers of prayers, and the shamen who brought the unseen world into view.
The artist receives this gift through their DNA. It is there at birth. Circumstances either encourage this gift or deny it's possibilities. If unrealized, this artist can search through life for a sustainable construct elsewhere and continually be rootless, never satisfied, never fulfilled, and always off balance.
In private discussions and continuous email correspondence, Star Wallowing Bull and I have discussed this topic backwards and forwards. We both understand this is a gift, we're both deeply thankful, and we both see that this is larger then we are.

Finally, I will say there are artists and then there are artists. One follows their calling, gets the proper education, and manages a career. The other artist is not only gifted, but they are a gift to their tribe, to society. They are visionaries; they create on another plane, having nothing to do with the fundamentals of design, having nothing to do with the Canon. This comes from a space of soaring dreams, a charted DNA descended from time immemorial, an unconscious, intuitive gift of enormous proportions. This, then is Star's legacy and I pray he continues to gift us all.

-Jaune Quick-to-See Smith
Corrales, NM
August 2005

Between Two Cultures: A Muscial Interpretation of the Art of Star Wallowing Bull

Star Wallowing Bull, Once Upon a Time.... 2004


I was commissioned by the Fargo-Moorhead Symphony to compose a work for the 2005/06 season-opening concert. When the Plains Art Museum and the Fargo-Moorhead Symphony decided to make a collaborative evening of the art and music, I was introduced to Star Wallowing Bull. As I have worked with him, It has been a real thrill to study his work and to get a glimpse into a variety of cultures that have shaped his life.

Initially, Star had reservations about how the orchestra and music might reconcile with his art, but as we worked together, the realm of possibilities opened up, and we both gained enthusiasm for the project.

I first met Star at his studio. He showed me several pieces that would be in the exhibition. After a few minutes of talking with Star and seeing his work, I knew what I was going to do with the Symphony's piece. I decided to name my symphonic work after Star's exhibition Between Two Cultures. I would score for full orchestra: with two flutes, both doubling on piccolo; two oboes, with the second doubling on English horn; two B flat clarinets; one bass clarinet; one alto saxophone; three bassoons, with the third doubling on contra; four French horns; two trumpets; three trombones; one tuba; timpani; and four percussionists-all playing a variety of instruments, harp, and strings.

The pieces is based on three of Star's drawings. The first movement is based on the work Unknown Territory. It begins with our principal flutist playing a traditional, wooden, Native American flute. The movement explores the dark and distant look on the man's face in the drawing, as well as his contemplation and rage. To me, the loss of his arms signifies the loss of something deeper: his culture? his land? his family?

The second movement is based on Windigo versus the Cannibal Man. This drawing depicts a fight between two evil spirits. The music is driving and dark. This movement evokes my understanding of the sounds at a pow wow, where the alto saxophone is the leader and the rest of the orchestra answers the chant. As the piece builds to climax with the fight, the Thunderboyz, the Native American drum group from the Sisseton-Wahpeton tribe, enters the stage and performs a short work, ending this movement.

The last movement is based on Once Upon a Time. This drawing seems very significant to Star, as it represents a new beginning in his life. From out of a very troubled past he's reaching for a star-success, a new life (thanks to a grant from the Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of the American Indian). The Movement begins with the full string section playing rather a somber, intense music. The pensive mood turns heroic with the brass section entering and the piece's end is uplifting and positive.

I'm thankful to the Fargo-Moorhead Symphony and the Plains Art Museum for making this collaboration possible. I'm also grateful to Star for sharing his culture and his personal stories.

-Russell Peterson
Fargo, ND
August 2005

The Plains Art Museum

Between Two Cultures: The Art of Star Wallowing Bull. The Plains Art Museum, Fargo, North Dakota 2005


When I first heard of the Plains Art Museum, I just started living at a treatment facility back in 2001. I was browsing through the newspaper and I came upon a classified ad which read,"The Plains Art Museum looking for local artists to show their artwork on the second floor hallway". I wasn't too sure of myself and my self-esteem was quite low at that time. I was still in my early recovery process of sobriety. None the less, a week later I responded with an application along with some slides of my work. I soon secured a small exhibition in the hallway. Two years later,I participated in The Art on the Plains (AOP)where my prisma color pencil drawing, "Black Elks Little Sandman" won the People's Choice Award. Where the museum soon purchased that piece for their permanent collection and is also one of the learning posters for their education department. I soon became good friends with Rusty Freeman, Sandy Ben-Haim,Pam Jacobson,Sue Petry,Joni Janz,Mark Ryan and Frank McDaniels. The entire Plains Art Museum Staff has been a great support for my work and have always been there for me.

Later in 2005, I was honored with having the "Between Two Cultures" exhibition which was in collaboration with the Fargo/Moorhead Symphony. Close to five hundred people attended my exhibition! It was very overwhelming and exciting. I just couldn't believe this was really happening to me. Months before this event, I worked with Russell Peterson who composed the music for the "Between Two Cultures" portion of the symphony's performance. Russell really captured the essence and reality of my artwork. There were three prisma color pencil drawings of mine that were projected on the wall behind the symphony. The last work shown was entitled "Once Upon a Time". It was about the re-birth of my recovery process. The drawing was a self-portrait of me as a baby reaching for a "Star". The music captivated me and brought tears of happiness to my eyes. I will forever remember this event and I'm very grateful for all the hard work that the Plains Art Museum staff, Russell Peterson and the entire Fargo/ Moorhead Symphony and the Thunderboyz had done during this collaboration.

My Dream - Fast Food & The Cookie Monster

I recently had a dream. The dream showed me as this extremely fat little boy walking down the street carrying all kinds of fast food. Cheeseburgers, french fries, pizzas, frosted cakes, candy and so on. I wobbled down the street with chocolate smeared all over my face. I was a very happy little boy. This street was bright with all kinds of fast food places. I could see Burger King, McDonald's, Taco Bell, and a variety of Candy Factories. Then the sky suddenly became grey and all the fast food stores started to close one by one. I became upset. While I was standing there, someone threw a cookie in my face and I started to cry. I looked to see who it was and it was the "Cookie Monster". He started to throw more cookies at me. So I tried to runaway from him. The Cookie Monster's laugh was very deep and disturbing. It really scared me. It was also hard for me to run due to all the fast food I was carrying and being over weight. I cried and cried as these cookies were being hurdled at me. He was just too fast for me to lose him. I started to hear someone call my name so I looked in that direction and it was "Oscar the Grouch". He was waving for me to come his way. So I ran towards him. He was living in a garbage can on top of a heap of garbage, as they were mostly black garbage bags. As I started to climb the garbage towards the top, "Oscar the Grouch" was holding a garbage can lid for a shield deflecting the cookies away from me. I was still crying and gripping my fast food. I couldn't fit inside the garbage can so I had to get rid of some of my food. I finally made it inside his home and I was safe. Oscar the Grouch's interior home was dark and full of black garbage bags. As I cried he started to comfort me in his arms and said I will be alright, there, there...

What's really strange is when my girlfriend Jennifer showed me the newspaper two days after this dream. There was a picture of "Cookie Monster" standing in front of a large cheeseburger in the Valley R&R section of The Forum Newspaper. The hair on the back of my neck stood up! The article was about junk food and childhood obesity.

I have been struggling with my weight this past year. Last winter I got up to around 190 pounds like every winter but I'm now down to 173 pounds. I'm still over weight. I should be 155 to 160 pounds for my height 5'7". I'm eating better and taking longer walks. Drinking a lot of water rather then sugar filled drinks which has made a small impact on me. In today's society, fast food is everywhere we go. Children are the targets for most fast food target markets. Sometimes I give in and buy a cheeseburger or something full of sugar. I also have a fear of being extremely obese. This dream was very real to me. It was a wake up call to stop eating all of that crap and live a better healthier life.