Montana Woman Magazine, Issue 20, September/October 2022 by Montana Woman Magazine

ISSUE N O 20, SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2022: SHAUNA WHITE BEAR / HARVEST $7.00 montana woman magazine

AMONG THESE PAGES The journey and Many moccasins of WhiteShaunabearFEATURES 34 &FOOD SPIRITS 12 APPLE CRUMBLE A recipe for an autumn evening CrawfordMegan Star Dust Woman 62 4

VIGNETTESLIFENOTEBOOK 18 THE WITCH'S HOUSE Morgan Holcomb 28 MOST DAYS THE SKY IS TOO BIG Autumn Toennis 54 WEST Maeve Fairbanks 60 LIVING IN THE SEASONS Caitlin Mallery 30 THE GIFTS OF GROWTH Shifting with the seasons 56 THE KNOWING Sowing seeds 72 LIPSTICK Everything but the kitchen sink 80 IN MINDFUL MOTION Roots & wings 82 MOVEMENT PRACTICE Finding what works for you 3 GOLDEN HOUR 7 LETTER FROM THE EDITOR 85 RETROSPECTIVE 100 UNDERSTORY CREATE 20 MOTH An embroidery pattern BYIMAGE ISAACSONHANS 5

AMSKAPI PIIKUNI, KOOTENAI, SÉLIŠ, AND

Contact the editor info@montanawoman.comat or

PHOTOGRAPHERS meganchloejesslyncrawfordmarienostrantkelseymerritt

Montana Woman is a platform. It’s a place to celebrate our achievements, a place to support each other, a place to acknowledge the resilience of the women of this state. It doesn’t necessarily matter where you’re from, you’re here now. In all of your loudness, your boldness, your fearlessness— you are here. We’re here, together. We publish a statewide magazine every other month that features women across Montana— the movers and shakers, the go-getters, the rule-breakers, the risk-takers. We all have a story to tell.

back cover prints are available at

CREATIVE DIRECTOR megan crawford BUSINESS MANAGER carrie crawford ADVERTISING carrie megankelseycrawfordmerrittcrawford

. com / shop

EDITING DEPARTMENT meganemilykelseycrawfordmerrittadamiak

ADVERTISING, DISTRIBUTION, & SUBMISSIONS

megan crawford UNDERSTORY Q'LISPÉ LANDS montanawoman

Montana Woman Magazine as you know it began in October 2019. Right out of the gate with photographer Alexis Pike as the first cover feature— clad in fringe pants and a motorcycle helmet in a Bozeman alleyway— we’ve always been authentically ourselves. We believe in showing up as you are. You don’t need to change who you are to have a seat at the table. No matter your age, your identity, your hometown, you are welcome here. We believe in creating a publication that’s worth reading because we have stories worth telling.

Montana Woman is a registered trademark and may not be used without permission. The information contained in this magazine is provided as is. Neither Montana Woman or the publisher make any representation or warranty with respect to this magazine or the contents thereof and do hereby disclaim all express and implied warranties to the fullest extent permitted by law. Montana Woman and the publisher do not endorse any individuals, companies, products, services, or views featured or advertised in this magazine. ©2022 Montana Woman. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced without written permission from the editor.

OWNER & EDITOR megan crawford

BACK COVER

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I’m sure I’d eventually miss spring blooms, the river in summer heat, and downy flakes and bluejay winter skies, but autumn is my golden hour. This is the time of year when I feel like I wake back up— back to my favorite sweaters & well-loved wool socks, it’s finally cool enough to bake, I can curl up under a blanket and work on embroidery again.

It is wholly fitting that this magazine came about in autumn, now three years ago. This issue you are holding marks the 20th issue of Montana Woman and our third anniversary. I knew back at issue 10 that someday, 10 issues would feel like driving by a highway sign (and I think I can say that 26-year-old me was pretty on the nose with that metaphor).

It makes perfect sense that the magazine began in these months; a time of year typically viewed as an ending that, in my mind, is really just the start of something better.

Harvest—July)

a culmination of seasons of work— can be a mix of satisfaction and underwhelm. Months of watering, weeding, tending to plants, and here are all your onions (smaller than you anticipated), baking in the late summer sun. A sense of now what? usually works its way up before we’re fully settled into autumn.

(I understand that colder months and snow can be a point of contention in northern states, but I love them and have been longing for snow since

LETTER from the EDITOR

But an end is not just an end— it is a beginning. I wish I could go back to 22-year-old Megan, at the precipice of graduating, and let her know that the end of a lifetime of education is not a hard end. Being out of school led to my old job which led to the magazine which led to here. And while the harvest may have been disappointing at times, I would not trade this bunch of onions for the world.

adamiakmerrittkelseynicoledunnemily lenamunteanusydneymarieschifferautumntoennis mosbruckerstephaniemaevefairbanksbarbarafraser holcombbrunnerwilcoxlaurenjenimorgan nostrantcochranmallerycaitlinmindychloeCONTRIBUTORS 8

100 St Andrews Drive Columbia Falls, MT 59912 THE SPA at Meadow Lake (406)892-8728 | thespa@meadowlake.com | vagaro.com/thespaatmeadowlake gift certificates available massage now acupunctureoffering&cupping nailsbody treatments warmdeepswedishtissuehotstonebamboo manicureacrylicgelpedicuremud or hydrating wrap body scrubs read shaunaaboutwhite bear on page 34 COVER MUSE shauna white bear PHOTOGRAPHER chloe nostrant LOCATION bozeman theBehindcover 9

three years of 20 ISSUES 36 states 491936featurespages montanawoman

by Lauren Wilcox

FOOD & SPIRITS | Apple Crumble 12

☼ FOR THE FILLING

☼ FOR THE CRUMBLE

Serve warm with homemade whipped cream or your favorite vanilla ice cream.

OVEN TEMP: 350 º F BAKE TIME: 35-45 MINUTES

1 tsp cinnamon 1 tbsp vanilla extract ½ tsp salt

Bake in a 350°F oven for 35-45 minutes, until the top of the crumble is a nice golden brown.

by Lauren Wilcox

enjoy!

For the crumble

Peel and core the Honeycrisp apples, then dice them into small pieces.

In your baking vessel, add the sugar, cinnamon, salt, and flour mixing, until fully combined.

ingredients apple crumble

FOOD & SPIRITS | BYIMAGE SHAFFEREVIE 14

For the filling

Sprinkle your crumble on top.

5 Honeycrisp apples ½ cup sugar ⅓ cup flour

In a medium bowl, add the flour, sugar, and cinnamon. Combine until fully incorporated.

Add your apples on top of this mixture. Add the vanilla extract, then mix the apples until they are fully coated.

method

1 cup flour ½ cup sugar ½ cup cold butter 1 tsp cinnamon

Set this mixture aside in the fridge while you prepare the apple filling.

Cube the butter and add it to the flour mixture. Using your fingers or a pastry cutter, mix the cold butter in until a sandy crumble forms.

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By Morgan Holcomb

the witch's houser

VIGNETTE | 18

The cat purrs, Places a sooty nose against their temple, In Whileblessing.hotwater boils, Tea and herbs sit on shelves Stuffed to bursting. “What would you like?” For fear, or calm, or something nice? They are given a cup. A cookie too.

Towards the late October light Pothos, Snake plants, Orchids, and the like

The loose leaves swirl Clockwise, maybe They see books stacked up way too high, Dark wood, pages Candles too.

Plants reach to the right, out the window

The guest enters To find slitted eyes

BRUSH AND OIL ON BLACK PAPER COURTESY OF THE SMITHSONIAN DESIGN MUSEUM

The tea pours

The cat trills

The guest tells their story They stop, mid-word, mid-sip “Wait a minute. Are you a witch?” They ask, a half-smile, half a joke. As so many others seem to do. Well, you are named after one, aren’t you? “No. Not AnotherThey’llBut,Unconvinced.quite.”that’salright.askagain.night.

STUDY OF AN AUTUMN BOUQUET, c. 1890 SOPHIA L. CROWNFIELD

The color of sunken treasure And pumpkin pie Peering out of a long, black body Brought home by happy accident, One Halloween night.

Long, red hair flicks by, And envy-colored eyes.

An embroidery pattern By Megan Crawford

CREATE | 20

moth

STRAIGHT STITCH

This stitch gives you flat, even patches of thread and is the quickest way to fill in an area.

Satin stitches are simple, straight stitches that run parallel to each other. I usually start toward the middle of the section I’m stitching and work to the edges from there. If you pull the thread too tight, the fabric may pucker— too loose, and your thread won’t lay flat. It’s also best to stitch a bit outside the line since the fabric will pull and stretch.

WHIPPED BACKSTITCH

Send your needle & thread up through the back of your fabric. Going straight from that point (I personally work bottom to top in a section), send the needle & thread back into the fabric. By sending the needle back down through threads that are already there, you lower the risk of loosening an already-stitched thread.

If you’d prefer to work with regular DMC Mouliné floss, the color codes are the same across thread types (but once you’ve used Perle for satin stitches, you will use it forever).

SATIN STITCH

A straight stitch is just a stitch that's straight! Like doing a backstitch, but just one stitch.

stitch guide

A whipped backstitch is just a fancy backstitch, and it makes easy work of stems or any sort of linework.

Start with a backstitch. At one end of the backstitch, send the needle & thread up through the fabric. Without going back through the fabric, pass the needle under the backstitch. Always pass the needle the same way (i.e., if you’re working from right to left, go right to left for every backstitch).

This pattern uses DMC Perle cotton thread, which is not the same as traditional DMC embroidery floss. Perle cotton is twisted but not divisible— it looks more like a thin rope rather than thread. These strands create a smoother effect when you’re working with satin stitches, and you cover more cloth quicker since the thread is thicker. While Perle cotton can technically be stitched on most fabrics, I prefer natural canvas since it’s sturdier.

⩕ 7˝ Embroidery hoop ⩕ Natural duck canvas ⩕ Pencil or water soluble pen ⩕ Light source for tracing the pattern (light pad, window, etc) ⩕ DMC Perle cotton (size 5), one skein per color (this is not the same as embroidery floss!) ⩕ Scissors ⩕ Embroidery needle ⩕ Optional: felt for backing SUPPLIES 975 (dark golden brown) 976 (medium golden brown) 436 (tan) 738 (very light tan) 611 (drab brown) 938 (ultra dark coffee brown) THREAD LIST Yarn - Classes - Community stixyarn.com @stixyarn 821 W. Mendenhall St. Bozeman, MT

FIND PATTERNTHISONLINE 24

ANTENNAE: whipped backstitch / backstitch (dark coffee brown, 938) BODY: satin stitch (dark coffee brown, 938) WINGS: satin stitch DMC Perle cotton size 5, 7˝ hoop; trace the above pattern onto the material of your choice! (I recommend natural canvas if you're working with Perle cotton) | MONTANAWOMAN.COM/CREATESHOP/EMBROIDERY-20 25

THECORDIALLY,EDITOR 26

MY FAVORITE PARTS OF THIS SEASON ARE THE FOOD, THE WEATHER, AND THE CLOTHES. I UNDERSTAND THOSE COMPONENTS ARE A MAJORITY OF AUTUMN, BUT I REALLY JUST WANT TO EAT BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP WITHOUT SWEATING. I DO REALIZE THAT THIS CONVERSATION IS INTRINSICALLY ONE-SIDED, BUT I DO HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A FAVORITE SOUP AND THAT YOU CAN ENJOY A MUG OF IT SOON (IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY).

THIS PAGE IS BLANK BECAUSE OF THE EMBROIDERY PATTERN ON THE OTHER SIDE (THAT WAY YOU CAN TRACE IT ONTO FABRIC)! BUT IT REALLY DOESN'T NEED TO BE THIS BLANK, YOU KNOW? WE COULD JUST SIT HERE AND CHAT FOR A BIT, I GUESS?

stitchin'get a new design every issue FIND THESE PATTERNS + MORE AT MONTANAWOMAN.COM/SHOP

by Autumn Toennis most days the sky is too big

VIGNETTE |

So I go in after her. Me, Latin-rooted she, Greek-limbed. She writes: I never tired to stand at the ships rails to watch the water & the nights filled with stars, the moon making a fancy pathway across the water, the white caps… I am picking up the skein of her voice decades after, sitting down at the loom, beginning: This is a female text in creation.

* The line “this is a female text” is from Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s book A Ghost In the Throat. The title is also a nod to a line in a short story by Shelley Freese.

This is me now, attempting the impossible task of fashioning an ocean in a bowl, of reconstructing an origin I have never met, who gave up wooded green for this place of sage and drought, but—

a blue that she knew, too, that is too tremendous to meet head-on except after the wash of that season, chorded by the breath of scythes on wheat, a clean blue sheet snapping over the heads of two harvests, generations removed.

Then I spy her, and the slipping of Theresa into Theresia, suddenly from an Mediterranean country, an inhabitant of Thera then into an ancient, a huntress : thēríon/θηρίον— huntable/wild animal then at the end, waiting for her great-granddaughter, therizo— to harvest

also— blue, in perpetuum

I displaced a season in the 16th century. They called them winter spring summer harvest until they didn’t and it became me.

BYIMAGE KOZIKALESIA 30

As I find myself now in my fourth decade, my steadfast appreciation of these seasons has finally intersected with a true love of how I’ve grown and who I am. But it hasn’t been mindless, accidental effort on the way to this garden party. If we’re paying attention and present, the work is consistent and often agonizing. We till in our teens, plant in our twenties, and tend in our thirties. Along the way, we lose track of what we ever set out to cultivate, and sometimes what comes up along the way surprises and confuses us.

In this life, we are anchored by the pattern of seasons we can count on. Every year, we dance to the familiar rhythm of the leaves releasing as they drop from branches. We peer at the sky as the first snowflakes float down, piling up over short, dark months. We exhale as the ice softens and disappears into the earth to make way for green shoots and bright flowers and nourishing foods. And then those tree leaves, well, they take on new shades, and it all begins again.

by Jeni Brunner

| LIFE 31

Somewhere in the midst of this shifting, another flame appears on our cake and we get to do this thing called getting older. While some bristle at the thought, I’ve come face-to-face with the alternative and know wholeheartedly the privilege of aging. There is deep gratitude in scraping together the leaf piles from my yard, joy in the coziness of winter, hope in the messy, muddy spring, delight in the smoky brilliance of summer.

the giftsof growth

We start out with so much energy and enthusiasm, maybe even confidence if we’re lucky. But then it’s harder out there than we realized. We aren’t fully prepared for the challenges, the elements, the real work. We can’t see that we aren’t meant to be. We get frustrated and distracted by things like people-pleasing, external validation, trying to define ourselves. We select partners, paths, professions— doing the best we can with what we understand in the moment.

But as our roots deepen and we steady ourselves, we start to recognize that how we are is not who we are, that our title is far less valuable than how we love. We begin the weeding, exploring our boundaries, discovering the joy of really getting to know ourselves. We clear space, separating what everyone wants from us from what we are actually willing to give. We practice saying no— it’s quiet and tentative and brings a bit of guilt at first. But then it gets easier, and we stand taller, more confident in the light.

Jeni Brunner is an adventure-loving yoga therapist originally from the waters and woods of northern Wisconsin. During family camping trips as a kid, she fell in love with the mountains and finally made her way home to Montana in her twenties. She spends her time here sharing her passion for wellness and creating sweet memories with her daughter under our big sky.

Eventually, we stop fearing failure and embrace whatever wild lessons come from it. Maybe we find that we prefer messy wildflower beds to pruned roses. Maybe we get poppies out of this life when we thought we were setting ourselves up for pumpkins. As we gather up our experiences and hold them in our arms, we find acceptance and nourishment in each victory, each wrong turn, each rainfall. Our tears turn to giggles and those giggles evolve into full, life-giving belly laughs in celebration of who we are.

Through the seasons, we take pride in putting ourselves together, getting dirty, allowing things to fall apart. We start to sort through how we feel and what is true, realizing they aren’t always the same. Maybe we start to smile shyly at that woman in the mirror instead of scrutinizing her. We tune out all the could-haves and would-haves and shouldhaves from the world and trust our own voice. We trust enough to say yes if it delights us, to walk away if it serves us, to fill others without completely emptying ourselves.

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Eventually, we stop fearing failure and embrace whatever wild lessons come from it.

BYIMAGE HYNESJEREMY 33

Story & images by Chloe Nostrant The Journey and T he Many Moccasins of | FEATURE Shauna White Bear 35

in leaTher-bound fooTsTeps,

Shauna White Bear walks across the concrete floor of her shop. There is hardly a sound coming from her— her entire being is silent, still, grounded. Her dress sways under her apron and as she sits down, she swishes her long braid behind her shoulders, revealing beautiful beaded earrings. She has a pair of headphones on and hardly looks up from her hands. She has tuned out all of the world, save for the piece of leather in front of her. Her workbench is well lit and covered in trinkets— elk ivories, buffalo nickels, a pendant of Frida Kahlo lay half organized across the surface. At the end of the workbench, nearly completed moccasins sit in pair, awaiting her final approval and blessings before heading out. She is in the zone; she is meticulous and serious, enveloped in a world of her own.

FEATURE | 38

A thought breaches through her wall of concentration; she lifts her headphones off her head and asks if I remember that cover of Rolling Stone Magazine Brittney Spears did. “You know the one, she was laying down with the old phone and stuffed animal. Let’s do a photo like that but with moccasins,” she says, collecting moccasins from around the shop to lie with on a bison hide. She knows exactly what she wants the photos to look like. She has the photo in her head before I press the shutter. Shauna is a true visionary. She sees what she is about to create in her mind before the rest of us see it with our eyes. She has a true gift for creativity and perhaps, most impressively, execution of those creative ideas.

mocs to a pop-up event at the Farmer’s Daughters Cafe in Bozeman and sold her first pair. After that, news of White Bear Moccasins spread like wildfire.

Once the spark was lit, Shauna dove head first into moccasin making, spending countless long nights in the back of Carter’s learning all that she could. She redesigned traditional moc patterns to have a modern twist, experimented with different leathers, and dialed in the fits. Soon, she even had a waitlist. Shauna had found her stride— and it was one wrapped in bison hide and tradecloth.

On a trip to Los Angeles, she decided to go outside of her comfort zone and reach out to the B.Yellowtail Collective, an Indigenous womenowned fashion brand and collective. Shauna thought she was reaching when she contacted them, but B. Yellowtail responded and they loved her work. She was invited to join the collective and was introduced

What started as a retail job at Carter’s Boots and Repair in downtown Bozeman led to exploration in the workshop after hours. Jeff Carter and Robert Leonard saw the spark and encouraged her to pursue moccasin making, providing her with the space, tools, teachings, and time. She made her first pair for a boyfriend; they weren’t the best, but she was hooked and the people around her were excited and encouraged her to keep going. She took some

Shauna is Arikara/Hidatsa and grew up in Washington. She had what she considers an ‘urban native’ upbringing. Though she was taught about her history and her family, she was not as immersed in it as she thought she was supposed to be. Like many young adults, she was searching for a sense of self and belonging and wanted something to identify with, so she moved to Montana. She wanted to find out who she really was and what it meant to be Shauna White Bear.

making sure each pair that went out the door was perfect. She learned the business side of things and grew White Bear Moccasins. This year she received the Prospera Women’s Business Center Impact Grant, which allowed her to buy much-needed shoemaking equipment.

to a whole new world and audience. Quickly, her name and her work blew up from there. There were mentions in InStyle and Cosmopolitan, features in local and national publications, wait lists, and sold out

But she can’t do it alone; even if she could, she doesn’t want to. She knew she wanted to share her knowledge and resources with other Native women. The idea of wanting to bring in creators from the

Shaunarestocks.transitioned to making mocs full-time and moved out of the backroom at Carter’s and into a shop space in Bozeman. She is a hard worker and pushes herself to make every next pair better than the last. She spent countless late nights in the shop,

next generation sat on her heart, but she had a hard time finding the right fit for someone to work alongside her. Word spread through the community that she was looking and eventually, four Native girls— three Crow and one Blackfeet— found their way into her shop looking to learn moccasin making. Faced with the ever-present housing crisis in Bozeman, the girls ended up living in Shauna’s grandparent’s basement for a few months while they spent their time learning from Shauna. She created a healthy and safe environment for the girls

to work in, taking on the role of both mentor and auntie. She wanted to show the girls that they were powerful and creative and that they had a voice.

Working with the girls, watching them learn, and bringing in their own personalities to the workshop sparked something in Shauna. She knew that she wanted to continue to mentor and teach young Native women. Moccasin making is a generational craft, and she, being the current generation, knows that she is the one who will pass it on. On her

healer. It’s a powerful name that she has learned to embrace and live in. For her, moccasin making encompassed all that she was looking for— a sense of home and belonging in the grains of the leather, a platform for expression and education through the finished mocs, and preservation of culture and history through the process. Maybe most importantly though, she found her craft and thus, she found herself. She is Shauna White Bear.

Chloewhitebearmoccasins.com@white_bear_moccasinsNostrant

is a writer, photographer, and artist (among other things) from Livingston, Montana. Finding stories in Montana’s vast landscapes, winding rivers, and saloons, she pulls inspiration from the characters born of these circumstances. Curious with how a place dictates the people, she travels around Montana and the American West documenting its people and places (and fishing its streams).

website she writes, “I’ve noticed that this line of work brings people together. They learn a little about me and I learn about them. Ultimately, that is my goal, to bring people together and encourage a healthy lifestyle. I’d like to motivate the younger generations that your mind & your hands should be used, not wasted. Remind them, life is hard, but we are in full control of how to live it.”

Over time though, the original four girls had to head home for various reasons and recently, the Bozeman housing market pushed out Shauna’s last remaining employee. Shauna wants to give young Native women especially the chance to grow and succeed. She knows the struggles they face but also knows the potential and power they hold. So many people saw that in Shauna and gave her the encouragement and tools needed to cultivate not only her craft, but her self.

White Bear does not mean ‘polar bear.’ It means ‘old grizzly bear’ and with that name comes good medicine and strength and the role of protector and

Ultimately, that is my goal, to bring people together and encourage a healthy lifestyle. I’d like to motivate the younger generations that your mind & your hands should be used, not wasted. Remind them, life is hard, but we are in full control of how to live it.

Shauna White Bear

BYIMAGE JESPERSENROBYNBENJAMIN 50

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WEST

by Maeve Fairbanks

VIGNETTE | BYIMAGE BRANDONTAYLOR 54

I feel the allure of a cowboy— To climb on the back of a horse Or in the passenger seat of a car To go do something somewhere far With no plans, really, But with so much intention.

Just another recent grad with not much of a reason To be anywhere, really.

On the floor in the basement of my parent’s house I build myself a bed

With the clothes on my body, a book, and three changes of underwear She turns the couch into a bed, Hugs me and says, “Have you eaten yet?”

When I feel stress or fear For what might come next I move forward.

I realize I have not let myself rest since the last time I came West.

I am searching for a reason To go anywhere. Really.

I arrive on my sister’s doorstep

Five hours South

On my aching feet.

In the plains

Atop telephone poles

After four years East

From the highway

Find its shade.

Someone told me that someone said It doesn’t matter what you do As long as you do something.

With an air mattress and three blankets

I can see nothing for miles But the crop fields look so full I imagine walking across the tops Of fuzzy tipped wheat stocks And feeling something soft

Eagles build their nests

And if there’s one tree in a prairie All the cattle

I worry there is not much for me here But there is space for me, at least.

THE KNOWING

by Lena Marie Schiffer

BYIMAGE MARSHMICHAEL

The fruits of my labor have shown themselves in small but significant displays of abundance. My successes stack on top of each other like ears of corn, alternating heights and locations on my body so they all get their turn in the sunshine. My failures are small and they have been neatly filed away to learn from in future seasons. I am proud of my work, even the mistakes I have made.

My journey has followed a winding path, sending out tendrils in every direction to see what takes hold. I have turned over stones that were buried underground, trying to hinder my roots from sinking deep. I have repelled various insects who wanted to eat my tender leaves before I was ready to give any part of myself away, and also welcomed pollinators who spread my name to others. I have withstood wind so fierce that I have almost laid down in defeat, but I have also stood tall and proud on bluebird days gaining inspiration from the songbirds flying overhead. I have accepted support from those who offered a trellis to lean on, fertilizer to feed from, and shady relief from the fiery breath of summer. I have also learned to store my sugars for use in the depths of winter and depletion and to trust that springtime is just around the corner. Up and up I have grown, searching, learning, and sharing.

When will it be time for the final harvest of this entity that has been growing for so long? How will I know when I have grown

I planted a seed years ago.

At the time, it was just an idea that had been dormant within me for a long time, but it quickly sprouted with the slightest amount of intention. My curiosity shed light on the seed and encouraged it to grow. Up I went, navigating a course that came with no handbook and very few rules.

Nine to be exact.

| LIFE 57

Plants are incredible. Seeds are able to lie dormant for years before knowing that it’s time to germinate. They sense the correct conditions for growth — a combination of temperature, moisture, sunlight, and nutrients that surround them with the confidence to survive. They slowly reach upwards towards the surface and stretch downwards with thin roots that develop into strongholds. They have natural defenses against predators, and they utilize other plant species for protection, support, and vital minerals. I am amazed at their ability to know, and sometimes I question my own knowing.

No one taught me how to succeed, but my instinct told me that as long as I was moving in a forward direction, things were going okay, so I kept reaching towards the light. I found others to keep me company— co-workers who filled the jobs that I couldn’t complete on my own. We all have found our roles over time, in a complementary circle that benefits the whole.

high enough, touching the clouds and the rain that

I am still moving towards the light, pulled by a deep curiosity that offers no explanation. The might be as simple as listening to the cues my environment is sending to me. Sometimes the reward will be as small as a pink sweet pea flower that winds up a fence line. Sometimes it will be as large as a bushel of freshly picked ears of corn that I can proudly share with others. Regardless, the harvests that come will be well worth the wait, and maybe that’s all I need to know for now.

Lena Marie Schiffer is a full-time musician based in Bozeman, Montana. She tours nationally with the band Laney Lou and the Bird Dogs, and also has a folk duo with her husband called Canoe Dealers, and a solo project called Lucy in Flight. When she isn’t crammed in a van with her four bandmates, she can be found fishing, hiking, and spending time with her family.

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I’ve forgotten that all things take time. I appreciate my co-workers for going on this journey with me and for standing by me when things have been difficult. And I am thankful to my community and my teachers for supporting me as I deepen my roots.

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BYIMAGE KEITHFINLAY

By Caitlin Mallery

living in the seasons

I would rather live in strawberry season, And as those berries fade I would live in huckleberry time. That would be a time to gather in the harvest To tuck it away for the cold months of January and February My memories of summer jammed in a jar with sugar and pectin.

As the saffron larch brightens the mountains in September I would clear the dead leaves and uproot the potatoes Preparing them for nourishing winter soups and stews; And the golden braids of garlic and onion stalks Will fill the pantry with a warming scent.

There are so many more than four seasons. A list of -embers cannot capture all the stages of the harvest. Nor can the alignment of earth to sun tell you when a pumpkin is done. September may have equal light and dark November may have a cornucopia displayed. But harvest does not come because calendars told it to.

I often wish that the calendar did not guide my seasons. Those arbitrary dates and numbers don’t feel like a natural fit.

| VIGNETTE

Harvest collects memories of late summer nights and early autumn frosts. Harvest prepares for the frigid temperatures and soft snowfall as I wait for spring every meal I make becomes a celebration of the harvest.

Then would come the season of ruby ripe tomatoes, freeze them, dry them, can them in a waterbath. Place the scarlet jars upon the shelves with care. And in October I will linger over the pot of chili and it will call me back to swatting mosquitoes and early sunrises.

Tove

Story by Kelsey Merritt Images by Megan Crawford

4×5 inches Megan

2019 Montana Woman’s Megan Crawford on Running a Magazine in a Post-Pandemic World 62

Stardust Woman photograph of Jansson; Crawford,

cyanotype, gold gesso, appropriated

starwomandust

| FEATURE 63

In 2019, at only 24-years-old, Megan purchased Montana Woman magazine and her desk became busier. She laughs about her smorgasbord of roles, saying, “There is always someone who messages me and says, ‘Oh my god! I didn’t know it was you— just one person doing design and editing, and the person you email for advertising is the person you email for features!’ I don’t think people know that I’m all of those things.” Outside of the magazine, she’s just as busy, co-owning a curated vintage shop with her mom called Wild Wanderer, where she sells metal stamped earrings and keychains along with her alternative process photography (for which she also used to teach workshops). She does freelance graphic design and manages social media for several businesses outside of her own, and still manages to find time to embroider, paint, and other outlets for her creativity. “Any fun, crafty thing where I can make something? I wanna do it,” she jokes.

You can see whether their tools are orderly and clean, how often they stop to consider the dust bunnies collecting in the corners while they create, or maybe how high the stacks of papers are on top of the shelves because an idea snuck up on them and they forgot about the papers entirely. Megan Crawford’s desk is a snapshot of her brain space— of her quiet brilliance with all things creative, her affinity for odd knick-knacks and ailing plants she attempts to keep alive, and the impressive collection of art she has carefully curated from local artists.

I remember hearing somewhere that you can learn a lot about an artist by looking at their workspace.

I’ve had the privilege of being friends with Megan since college, where we bonded in the photography darkrooms of Montana State University in the wee hours of the morning in caffeine-induced bouts of creativity. It was during our time in the photography program that Megan took an Adobe InDesign class from Chris Anderson, where she learned the intricacies of magazine layouts. She attributes the basis of her magazine work to that class: “I keep [Chris’s] booklet in my desk drawer. I reference it all the time!” With a degree in Film & Photography and a minor in History, I knew Megan held the tools in her wheelhouse needed to create a magazine I would enjoy reading. But, it was her drive to do more— to push to include voices of diversity, to elevate the magazine to a piece of art with her design ability, and her work ethic that consistently leaves me wondering, “How the hell does she do this every issue?”

But, beyond that design element is a respect that Megan has for her environmental impact with the magazine. When she purchased the magazine, she made steps to incorporate conscious choices, such as soy-based ink, FSCcertified paper (10% postconsumer recycled paper), and shipping the magazines in paper envelopes instead of plastic. But all of these strides almost came to a screeching halt in 2020, during the first months of the COVID-19 pandemic.

It’s easy to see and feel the quality of Montana Woman when you hold it in your hands. That quality is imperative to Megan’s mission, because “if you are going to go out of your way to get a physical magazine, it would be cool if it were an experience.” Megan’s carefully curated design eye is laced through the pages of this publication. There have been so many times where I’ve opened it and been in awe of the colors, the photographs, the typefaces. While the finished product is a collaboration of the many voices that make Montana Woman, its final presentation is Megan’s opus. “I’ve had people tell me that they do collages, journals, or dream boards with [the pages]. And it made me think of an assignment I had in 3rd grade where we had to cut up magazines and make a collage and it’s so cool to think that someone is doing that with something I made…That’s why I love designing the magazine the way that I do, so that it’s not just content. Each spread and each page is its own art piece in a way.”

“April 4, 2020 was the day I thought I had to fold it,” Megan said. Overnight, distributors and advertisers dropped as small businesses closed across the country. In a matter of days, Megan lost 160 distributors. “Before the pandemic, this was a free magazine, which I don’t think was ever sustainable. It cost a lot of money to print, ship, and get to the subscriber.” At that point, she started charging $5 a magazine. But, as we have all experienced in the years since 2020, costs have only increased since. Shipping for the magazine has continually increased, but Megan was able to keep the price the same until an estimate came in from the printing company for the July/August 2022 issue. “Paper

I’vepriceless.”beenabsent from the magazine’s table of contents for over a year while I gave birth to my daughter, adopted my son, moved my family from Belgrade back to my hometown of Miles City, and undertook a career change. I was scared to write again. Scared that somehow my voice had been lost in the waves of changes I have been riding (and struggling to stay afloat amidst) for these many months. But, I told Megan at the beginning of the year as we texted back and forth about ideas for the magazine that I felt she should be a feature for the magazine. She laughed me off until I convinced her that you— the reader— needed to know who it was lingering in these pages.

I started writing for Montana Woman in the beginning, when Megan called me with the dream that she could turn this magazine into a space for women in this state to be heard. Creating that space in each issue remains important to her: “I think it means a lot for people to be able to see themselves in print and in a publication… to be able to go and make this magazine where people can go, ‘Hey! I share that same background,’ Any way that people can find solace and feel seen is

any way that feelsolacecanpeoplefindandseenispriceless

SOME OF MY FAVORITE OFFICE TCHOTCHKES: *A BOTTLE OF FOUND CAT WHISKERS *DEFUNCT BIG MOUTH BILLY BASS *THE FIRST (AND ONLY) INCENSE CHIMNEY I MADE *VINTAGE GUMBY *NOTES FROM MY FRIEND LAUREN *JACKALOPE*ROCKS COIN BANK *BRASS FROG IN A ROCKING CHAIR 68

With the help of her mom, who is the never-ending supportive force Megan needs to keep her business afloat, Montana Woman continues forward. “When she sees that I am stressed and blasting ABBA and near the edge of tears, she will go out and grab me coffee and it’s this small act that makes such a huge difference.” Small businesses require communities of support and Megan recognizes “the community that it has cultivated over the years has been incredible and that keeps growing and more people keep finding it. Especially when I hear from people who connect to it because they see someone in the

| FEATURE 69

The magazine makes enough through cover charges and advertising to pay for itself, but it’s important for Megan to think ahead to a place where the community of writers could be paid. “The last few years threw us a curveball, but I still have the goal I’ve had from the beginning to have small paychecks for the writers and me.” Despite all her roles in the magazine, Megan continues to be unpaid. But, for

went up 20%, and printing went up by 15% and all of a sudden we had a 35% increase and I was back to wondering if we could keep the magazine open.” Megan made the difficult choice to increase the price to $7 per magazine, but was met with nothing but support and understanding from her readership.

her, the pride in the magazine’s success is simple: “I’m most proud of the fact that we are still here.”

How different, how beautiful, how necessary we all are.

Behind the velvety soft cover, the thoughtful layouts, the finessed typeface choices, the shipping labels, the Instagram page, the 5-panel hats, the powerful poems scrawled across pages— is Megan. A woman busting her ass to provide a space for other women in Montana to feel seen and heard. I started this article wary of turning it into a love letter to my friend. I end it feeling nothing but love for my friend who has worked so profoundly hard over the last three years to create this work of art that I don’t mind it being a love letter at all. A year after stopping writing, I can’t imagine a better reason to come back to

Please,say:

keep reading Montana Woman magazine. Tell your friends, the strangers you meet on the street. Give it as a gift to a loved one at Christmas, send it as a surprise to someone who needs a reminder that they are not alone. Without people like Megan bravely going into the scary unknowns of a publishing world post-pandemic, our voices will go quiet, unheard, and disjointed. But, because of people like her, we have this space, these very pages beneath our fingers, to tell our stories, scream our frustrations, and whisper our insecurities. Because of Megan and because of Montana Woman, I am reminded of my own voice. And how powerful our voices are.

WATERCOLOR STUDY, 2021 MEGAN CRAWFORD 70

magazine who looks like them or has had similar experiences to them in such a small publication where they feel seen? It’s such a cool thing and such an honor to create and share that with people…we’ve done so much, and there’s so much more to go.”

Lipstick

BY BARBARA FRASER

BYIMAGE LANCASTERMATTHEW 72

Next were deposited a small notebook because I might need extra, a box of Kind Bars, and two

chocolate bars because I never travel without dark chocolate. Because I was going to be in crowds of people, I also brought Halls cough drops, Emergency, Airborne, and a zippered bag of handmade masks. Red thread and a needle in a pill container to fix the button on the shirt I can finally fit into that I want to wear if I have the time. I figured we would all be sitting around talking on Friday night, so it seemed more than reasonable. That too got fixed the day after I arrived home while I sat on my couch in the glorious sunshine talking with a friend.

Nail polish, just in case the hike in the woods or something along those lines might damage my very low-maintenance manicure, was tossed from across the room. Because you find a color that you fall in love with and then they discontinue it, I gather OPI’s Baby Take a Vow like the apocalypse is imminent and bought six bottles the last time I found them (if I find them again I may be tempted to buy another half dozen).

I like coming home to a clean house, so as I tidied up I discovered a couple more items that caught my eye.

| LIFE

A spare belt for no reason at all and a tiny jar of Vaseline jelly I had just bought because I had the room, and why not! My check register (yes, I still have a checkbook which makes all three of my sons laugh out loud) and the highlighter I use when something has cleared. I hang onto some habits like a caged bear hangs onto a fresh fish. I didn’t touch it once and actually still have not, so by all means I absolutely should have left that one home.

I had bought small checkout line nut packs the last time I stood at the market; they got tossed in too. They may keep me nourished when I don’t feel like stopping to eat the chicken pieces in a baggy or chicken salad with grapes in the cooler tucked onto the floor of the passenger seat. I put a fork in my purse…

Can we roll our eyes enough yet?

It was time to travel again, and I was off to visit my cousin and family halfway across the state of Montana; I would put 882 miles on the car by the time I got back home. I always find a road trip an exciting prospect no matter the destination. I got my tiny overhead suitcase that has become my trusty side-kick all packed— and even took two of my pillows just in case. Walking boots went with me as well because a possible breakdown with no cell service in our large state is always better to be prepared for.

This warranted my diffuser and three significant essential oils. My noise machine that I can’t sleep without was put right next to it. May as well throw in the Lavender Room and Linen Spray as well; we might need calming. My new favorite thing, Walgreens Lavender facial wipes, are still amazing to me and also went into the bin (I can’t believe they smell as wonderful as they do, I made everybody smell them and they politely agreed). Then I added a fold-up bag just in case, along with a scrubby for my feet I never used.

My Rosemary Garlic and Sea Salt spice kept company with my Dill weed so I could make cucumber salad. There were two cucumbers in my fridge and I couldn’t remember how much longer they would be fresh. So yes, they went into the cooler and came back home with me when I never used them. The fact that they traveled over 800 miles just for fun is typically hilarious of my life.

As I walked through the kitchen for the last time, I grabbed my favorite Ginger tea for the possibly one quiet morning we might sit outside, and a can of tuna. I can imagine that this can of tuna may surprise you, especially since I didn’t bring my P-38 that I was issued in the Army 41 years ago that is on my other key ring. It was an impulse move that I clearly did not think through. One never knows when one might need tuna.

I grabbed the clear plastic bin sitting on the front porch, knowing I had plenty of room in my trunk and will describe the next 30 items that kept company with my boots. My cousin has two dogs and a cat and I would be wearing black; the lint roller went into the bin. I am at a time in my life where I don’t have a pet, a first in over three decades. After my husband died, and then my last sweet dog, I bought a fish. When that wasn’t the solution, a dear friend said I wasn’t allowed pets until I learned how to take care of myself first— good advice for a woman whose priority was everyone else for 35 years.

The only other place she could suggest was the one and only pharmacy in town, which unfortunately

One of my cousin’s friends assured me that she was quite certain she had a tube of neglected lipstick somewhere in her purse sitting amongst possible “purse crumbs” that I was more than welcome to; I thanked her for her gracious kindness.

I was becoming incredulous. I expressed said astonishment to the two young men who were the checker and bagger and who were doing their best to offer suggestions, much to my cousin’s smiling delight. I wondered if this was how extraterrestrials might feel after landing on our planet. Hours away in Billings, a large city I have been to numerous times, there are shops like Ulta and Sephora, beauty supply stores, and grand department stores, even a Walgreens which would have been like walking straight into heaven at this point.

None of these women wore lipstick every day, and some not even at all. I got to know these amazing women better over the next two days. They were ranch wives, mothers and grandmothers, EMTs— they are strong and exactly who my cousin needed in her life; women I would be proud and grateful to call my own friends as well. They pull calves out of cows in freezing weather in the middle of the night; they are the most beautiful women in the world as they jump out of an ambulance when your life has just crashed into a million pieces. They rescue you

Every grocery store I had been in for the last twenty years had some section of at least Maybelline, Cover Girl, L’Oreal, and Wet and Wild. As we walked to the Dairy section, down the aisle that carried beauty products, we found none. I figured there must be another aisle with its tiny section of cosmetics. After grabbing my sour cream, we went down the aisle again— must have missed it the first time, I figured. No such luck. There was a turnstile taller than I was with all kinds of other products that resembled something from the Disco Era, but apparently the lipsticks had all been grabbed when the opportunity presented itself.

Now here is where it gets funny and if I still have your attention, you will be entertained, especially if you live in Eastern Montana. As I was about halfway across state, I reached over into my purse and discovered to my enormous disappointment that when I had traded purses, I had forgotten my lipstick. I had brought everything but the kitchen sink and no lipstick. Great!

That night, there was much discussion of every kind— the first part was when my cousin and friends were talking about having to pay for their golf membership for the season. She informed me that there were over 300 members; my response was, “Hmmm, three hundred members at the Overland Gold Course, but no lipstick in sight.” Then I discovered that you could buy condoms by the boxful at the Family Dollar store, but no lipstick at the grocery store. This run quickly took on a life of its Thereown.isabig

The funniest part of this whole experience was what happened for the rest of the weekend. This became the point of much humor for me and those around me who were pulled into my own private circus.

was closed after five. It wouldn’t be open again until nine o’clock tomorrow morning because it was Saturday; luckily it wasn’t Sunday, when they were closed. I understood my window of opportunity was small— a “you snooze, you lose” type of situation. Never one to balk at an open challenge, I made a mental note that tomorrow I would assuredly resolve my present and only dilemma.

beautiful Meats of Montana building (remember, this is cattle country) with a big beautiful glass-fronted showcase lit up all night long. It is marvelous and would send any beef eater into a headspace of dreaming about recipes and BBQs. There is a Bible Baptist Church with big picture windows, an Ace Hardware store— but no lipstick. This actually went on all night long with great laughter.

After a moment’s thought, I disregarded my distress and assumed I would just need to stop at the local grocery store to solve my dilemma. When I arrived and my cousin jumped into my car, I told her I needed to stop at the market for sour cream for the cucumber salad and lipstick. She responded, “there will definitely be sour cream, but it is Big Timber, not sure about the lipstick.” To me, her response sounded like a foreign language. Of course they will have something; I couldn’t imagine any other possibility. I just figured it was not on the top of her list, but there must be some semblance of possibilities available. When I assured her there must be something, she again repeated the quote, “I don’t know, it is Big Timber.”

BYIMAGE LANCASTERMATTHEW 75

CRAWFORDMEGAN 76

in all of life’s situations, they hug you and hold your hand, they are wise beyond measure, and they are authentic in a world full of calculation. And they don’t wear lipstick. I was raised by this type of woman and have had small points in my life when I also lived this life.

came first, the chicken or the egg. The thought did cross my mind that perhaps this was a potentially enormous business opportunity? I could sell my home, and after buying crates of lipstick, find some lovely little storefront and set the world on fire. Eventually, I walked out of the store having found the very last tube of tinted Burt’s Bees. The day was saved as I got into my little clown car. I could attend the memorial service feeling a little less naked.

BYIMAGE

The next morning I jumped into my car, and with instructions that seemed silly to a local, I drove off in search of a reasonable solution for my lips. The pharmacy did indeed have a make-up section. One clear container with about 10 tubes gave me hope, priced at $10.39 each. The rum raisin option would never suit my pale complexion, a hot pink that I personally quit wearing about fifteen years ago but has come back into style was a no, a flesh tone that seemed to taunt me and my predicament, and a couple other colors that I now don’t even remember. I was starting to see why lipstick was not popular and had to wonder about the paradox of which

Make no mistake; I have now put another tube of my “signature” Maybelline number 445 in both of my purses. I have five tubes that have been acquired occasionally, and like the nail polish, I will be tempted to buy a few more just in case. What was even more fun was not having it and having the humor and acceptance of these wonderful women who all had beautiful smiles thanks to their Chapstick.

on view at

PARIS SQUARE MUSEUM OF ART

1400 FIRST AVENUE NORTH GREAT FALLS, MT (406)727-8255THE-SQUARE.ORG59401 HOURS TUESDAY: 10AM TO 9PM WEDNESDAY TO FRIDAY: 10AM TO 5PM SATURDAY: 10AM TO 3PM SUNDAY/MONDAY CLOSED YOUR FRIEND, RANGER DOUG JUNE 3, 2022 THROUGH OCTOBER 5, 2022 CELINE FRANCOIS CLAIRE JANTZEN KAYLA BORKOVEC LEXI JOHNSON SARA NELL THE LAST GLACIER PROJECT MAY 27, 2022 THROUGH SEPTEMBER 21, 2022 TODD ANDERSON IAN VAN COLLER BRUCE CROWNOVER Exhibitions presented by Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art are supported in part by the Montana Arts Council, a state agency funded by the State of Montana and the National Endowment for the Arts. Additional funding is provided by museum members and the citizens of Cascade County, Printing Center USA, Montana Woman Magazine, and generous support from Montana Federal Credit Union and D.A. Davidson. Virtual Discussion with Film Makers September 26, 2022 at 5:30pm on Facebook LIVE: facebook.com/PGSMOA Artist Panel Discussion and Reception at The Square, September 16, 2022 at 6pm with Livestream on facebook.com/PGSMOA

GIBSON

THIS COULD BE YOU!

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YOU LIKE TO THINK OUTSIDE OF THE BOX … WHY SHOULD YOUR WEDDING DAY BE ANY DIFFERENT?

For soon-to-be-married couples who feel constrained by the trappings of a traditional wedding, an adventure elopement is the next best thing you never knew existed. From sunrise mountain top summits and helicopter rides on glaciers to casual strolls through the woods and chill days on the lake, we’ll work together to craft a wedding day that truly speaks to your soul and incorporates what you love most — the outdoors and each other.

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Rootswings& LIFE | BYIMAGE SEESJEFFERSON 80

BY NICOLE DUNN

Allow me to set the scene. My husband and I sold our house of 18 years in Missoula in September of 2021 and entered into a new chapter of life I’ve been referring to as The Great Unknown. We were in pursuit of a long-held vision to buy land in western Montana, to both live on and also start a small, rustic meditation retreat center (for more info, check out our website at emptymountain.org). After many months of trying, we figured the only way we could compete in the competitive land market was to liquidate our assets so we’d be ready to roll when the time came. So we sold our house, flew the coop for the winter months, and returned back home in early April to resume our search for land. We took a leap, hoping a net would appear.

After living the van life for a few months (which was especially cold & rainy this past spring) and making a full-time job out of land searching, we finally found our new home: 24 acres in the lovely woods outside of Superior, Montana. We closed on the sale on July 1st. We’re sans structures or services— and when I say sans services, I really mean it: we don’t even get cell service here. So this is us, in our early 40s, learning to live off-grid and homestead in the woods, and hoping to start organizing and hosting mindfulness day events and retreats soon.

Since selling our house, not knowing if or where or when we would find land to buy, I’ve experienced a fairly high level of stress on board in my mind/body system. I’m a nester and I love having a home base. It’s been a challenging practice to not have a fixed dwelling place to call home. The Great Unknown was full of uncertainty, doubt, and struggle. One of my daily self-affirmations has been: One step at a time. Just take things one step at a time. That’s all anyone can do.

Here’s to all of us investing time and energy into harvesting the fruits of what it means to have both roots and wings. To follow our hearts, even, and maybe especially, when we don’t know what the heck we’re doing or where we’ll end up, while also keeping close to our roots, our necessary points of connection.

I’ll share with you a little thing I’ve learned and find really helpful to remind myself about often: just because something feels uncomfortable doesn’t mean anything is wrong or in need of fixing. There were many times over the past few months, after selling our house and before we found land, where the doubt and confusion were so overwhelming that my first instinct was to think: Oh no! We made a mistake! We shouldn’t have sold our house! What were we thinking?! But then another, more grounded voice would chime in: Growth and change involve discomfort. It’s a natural part of the deal. Everything takes time.

Through all of the upheaval and unknowns, one breath at a time, my practice has been what it is on a regular and ongoing basis: to take good care of the present moment as much as I possibly can. To stay close in touch with my necessary roots of grounding while rallying the courage to spread my wings and take flight into the great wide open.

life throws us a curve ball or we take on a big new change, it’s important to know what our anchors are, and then stay as close to them as possible. No doubt certain things will have to shift and be readjusted, to make space for whatever new is taking shape. But knowing what to hold onto (roots) and what to let go of (wings) will help support the transition, which is bound to be uncomfortable, at least for a little while.

NICOLE DUNN is a Missoula-based writer, community organizer, poet, ordained member of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing, and program director of Be Here Now, a weekly mindfulness & meditation group she founded in 2002. For more info: InMindfulMotion.com

During this big life change period, it’s been crucial to lean into both things: maintaining roots while sprouting wings. To stay connected to what both represent, simultaneously, and not feel the need to choose one at the expense of the other. When

It’sdiscomfort.andGrowthchangeinvolveanaturalpartofthedeal.Everythingtakestime.

By Mindy Cochran | Levitation Nation

have to admit, when I first heard the term “movement practice,” I didn’t really understand what it meant. In fact, it has taken me nearly a decade of movement exploration, a little investigation, and a lot of contemplation to really wrap my brain around the term.

WHAT PRACTICEMOVEMENTHAVEMEANSITTOAI

Today, as the founder of Kalispell’s aerial studio, when I think of movement practice, the first movement practitioners who come to mind are polers and aerialists. And I am not only talking about our seasoned performers and instructors— I am talking about anyone who makes it through the doors repeatedly for a class. Because a “practice” is defined simply as “performing an activity, exercise or skill repeatedly in order to improve.” No matter what skill level a practitioner has, as long as they are repeating skills, they have a movement practice.

Obviously, there are other movement practitioners too. From yogis to dancers to gymnasts to martial artists, these individuals all use the gift of movement in a way that goes beyond just exercising for fitness gains. Like pole athletes and aerialists, they are expanding their movement abilities beyond just strength and power. Their practices help improve balance, coordination, rhythm, mobility, and grace.

Movement practices are usually connected to a cause behind the workout; causes such as relaxation, stress release, or playtime. An instructor of a yoga

Do your current workouts challenge you? What are they teaching you? How satisfied are you with your current level of mobility and/or rhythm? How are your balance and coordination? What activities do you do on a regular basis to help you boost creativity and cognitive function? Do you have an intention that you would like to bring to or get out of your workouts? If so, is your intention being achieved? WITH PROVEN RESULTS.

In my opinion, the biggest advantage of taking up a movement practice is that it helps improve cognitive function as well as creativity. Like muscles, cognitive function and creativity both get stronger the more you use them. I believe this with my whole heart! If you think a movement practice might be right for you, you can use these questions to help guide you:

Kim Wallen MSN, CRNA, FNP Owner & Aesthetic Provider 85 Mill Town Loop, Suite A Bozeman MT 59718406.602.8119 Call/Text PrecisionAestheticsMT.comPrecisionAestheticsMT

Mindy Cochran is the founder of Kalispell’s Levitation Nation Aerial Studio, where the catchphrase “fitness is fun” is embodied alongside a culture of movement & women empowerment. Mindy believes that “The Real Levitation Experience” lies within elevating your health & wellness. Mindy loves to share the expertise she has acquired through her certifications as a personal trainer and life coach. For more about Mindy or Levitation Nation, please visit levitationnation.org

class I once attended offered love as an intention. The purposes behind my own practices are deepened by connecting them with the intent to have fun. I find it ironic that although fun workouts and relaxing workouts are on total opposite ends of the spectrum, they both result in stress release. If that isn’t a sign that bodies simply need to move, I don’t know what is!

| LIFE MEDICAL GRADE SKINCARE

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If you think a movement practice might be right for you, don’t wait to start one up! With the return of fall and cooler Montana weather swirling in the air, now is a great time to sample a class and explore indoor workouts to keep your interest through the upcoming seasons. I built a studio around the “fitness is fun” motto, so if you are in the Flathead Valley, I encourage you to come try a class Levitation Nation in Kalispell. We have classes for teens and adults, but if you are looking to get your younger children started in a movement practice, I highly recommend the Flathead Gymnastics Academy. Because you are never too young— or too old— to start a movement practice!

| NOTEBOOK 85

(to clarify, I do not like August itself, but I like that I get to daydream about the return of autumn and make a magazine about it)

I still do not keep a five-year plan. I keep a list of things I’d like to do someday (design a font, make a cookbook, publish a poetry book, see the Northern Lights, etc.), but I refuse to create an agenda. I can’t even keep my whiteboard calendar consistently updated— a five-year plan would just be a setup for disappointment. I’d honestly rather just roll with the punches and see what happens next.

I resented the accelerated seasons when I worked in retail (you could never truly be in a season since you were always preparing for the next), but I now love this wedge of time.

I had a couple interviews this year, which is a big deal because I am not one to partake in interviews (folks I have interviewed for the magazine can attest that I let them know I’m nervous right out the gate). One was back in January for the Bozeman Daily Chronicle, and the other was in April for Montana Public Radio. Both interviewers asked what lies in store for the future of the magazine, which is a fair question because that’s something I always ask in interviews. But I honestly didn’t have a solid answer outside of “keep making a magazine,” because that’s really what I’d like to do— just keep making a magazine.

This issue marks our third anniversary, so it’s fitting that I write another retrospective eight (edit: now three) days before this magazine goes to the printer. I read back on the last two retrospectives, and I feel like I don’t have much to say. The beginning of this magazine was a rocky start to say the least, but I’ve gotten to a point where I could only be phased by a handful of things. Maybe it’s become too laissez-faire, too que será será, but it’s what works. The magazine has gotten to its 20th issue, so something must be going right.

Lookingstick.back

I digress— I could wax poetic about this magazine for days. For this retrospective, I wanted to look back on the early days of the magazine, designs that never saw the light of day. Because, as a designer, what’s more fun than publishing old rejects?

(Obviously I see back issues all the time and will flip through them to check for even the slightest mistake, but things don’t really boomerang back to me, you know? It’s a catch and release)

The last 20 issues are a living portfolio of changing design, writing, and art-making. The first cross stitch pattern wasn’t made until issue 5, I didn’t start adding my poetry to the beginning & end of each issue until issue 10, and watercolor tutorials weren’t sporadically added in until issue 16. This magazine will always continue to grow and evolve. The one constant, though, is every hand that touches these pages. It’s a woven tapestry that only works when everyone brings a thread— writers, photographers, features, advertisers, distributors, readers, friends, family, strangers, our printing company, the folks at the local post office— anyone who has grazed these pages is part of a larger story. And I hope it’s never finished.

That is to say, I know I will never get used to the impact this magazine has. I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand it. Again, because I just make a magazine— I’m not there every time someone picks up a copy. I don’t usually see people’s reactions first-hand, outside of friends and family. Every now and then I might get a message about a specific issue/article/poem, but there’s really no way to measure the impact of the magazine as a whole. I just help a fledgling along, release it out of the nest, and never see it again.

Of course, there was also the interview for this magazine, which was equally nervewracking even though Kelsey is a longtime friend who’s seen several sides of me and could be surprised by nothing at this point. I’ve gotten better at calling myself a writer or chiming in and saying, “hey, I own that magazine!” if I see someone picking a copy up at a local shop, but I don’t think I’ll ever really get used to it. I just sit at my messy desk and churn out a magazine every other month. It’s like doing laundry.

Every single page in this magazine goes through multiple lives— rarely does a first design

I do know that this magazine has been a first line of publication for several writers. It’s been someone’s first time advertising, someone’s first time being featured— which is what makes independent publications so dang cool. There’s a level of accessibility you’d never see in mass-produced, big-name magazines. Your neighbor is in this magazine; someone you ran into at the grocery store is in this magazine. There’s no level of renown or skill inherently required to be in these pages; you just are.

on the first issue is bittersweetly nostalgic (kind of like seeing an embarrassing photo from high school and missing who you were then, but overall being happy with being someone completely different). I love all of those first designs. You can see glimpses of an aha moment, some sparks from the flintstone. Not enough to set the whole magazine ablaze, but a start. But somewhere along the way, I realized that I can do whatever I want. It is my business, after all— do what ya like.

| NOTEBOOK 91

BYIMAGE ISAACSONHANS 92

weddings & celebrations

Maire, Elopement photographer

Wilder

Floral & Supplies

Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art (Great Falls)

building & design

Rose Petal (Columbia Falls (Whitefish) (Columbia (Kalispell)

jesslyn (Bozeman)

wellness Arrowleaf Bodywork (Columbia Falls) Precision Aesthetics (Bozeman) Spa at Meadow Lake

Stix Yarn (Bozeman)

Third Hand Silversmith Way Creative Retreats

Devin Helen Boudoir Clothing (Bozeman)

Revivall

Wright's Furniture

Chloe Nostrant

art

home

Wisdom Workshop (Kalispell)

Wild Wanderer (Columbia Falls) (Whitefish)

+ Cut Bank) Sarah Harding, Celebrant

Falls) Withey's Health Foods

creatives

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the woodlands

From the garden we move out to the wild lands— quiet places to seek the unknown, embrace who we are. Moving between trees to delve further into hallowed ground, willing to wander as time is needed. Among branch and moss, fern and stream, to find ourselves in this place. To forage what we need, leave what we don't, and continue on the passage— finding refuge in and among each other as we carry on.

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EmbraceSeekDelveWanderForageRefuge BYIMAGE FILIPEKTOMASZ 97

BYIMAGE CRAWFORDMEGAN