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The true story of one of North America's most revered art icons, Charles Marion Russell. In the late 1800's, Charlie left home at age 15 to follow his dreams of the enchanted Wild West. When he got to Montana he did not look back.
Charlie soon got a job as the night horse-herder for a big roundup. This was a responsible job and his boss let him know it. Reason being, the horses had to graze and they also could not run off. If they did, there was no more roundup until they were found and brought back.
Charlie loved this life so much, he painted it! He didn't just draw a horse standing out under an apple tree. Oh no, his horses were bucking, falling, throwing their riders, and the cattle, bear, elk and Indians were also into mischief. Charlie was the first Polaroid of the Wild West. However, his first love was that of being a cowboy with the guys, either on roundup, at Dodge or in the bars.
As good a painter as Charlie was, he was a better story teller. He was the straw that stirred the drink, the life of the party, and the cannon that brought the house down. He knew where all the bones were buried and how they got there. He also became an alcoholic. He loved the bar life, and the bar tenders loved him. They traded him drinks for paintings, which adorned their walls.
Charlie soon got a job as the night horse-herder for a big roundup. This was a responsible job and his boss let him know it. Reason being, the horses had to graze and they also could not run off. If they did, there was no more roundup until they were found and brought back.
Charlie loved this life so much, he painted it! He didn't just draw a horse standing out under an apple tree. Oh no, his horses were bucking, falling, throwing their riders, and the cattle, bear, elk and Indians were also into mischief. Charlie was the first Polaroid of the Wild West. However, his first love was that of being a cowboy with the guys, either on roundup, at Dodge or in the bars.
As good a painter as Charlie was, he was a better story teller. He was the straw that stirred the drink, the life of the party, and the cannon that brought the house down. He knew where all the bones were buried and how they got there. He also became an alcoholic. He loved the bar life, and the bar tenders loved him. They traded him drinks for paintings, which adorned their walls.
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