Two Legends

TWO LEGENDS

I painted Two Legends a few months ago to include in my Open Studio this past May. If you’ve spent any time poking around my website or following me on social media, you’ve probably noticed I have a deep love for painting Native Americans and cowboys—especially when the reference photos are vintage, from the late 1800s and early 1900s. There’s just something about those faces, the stories behind them, and the quiet strength they carry. This particular image stopped me in my tracks. It shows Chief Sitting Bull and Buffalo Bill Cody together—posing side by side, even though history tells us they weren’t exactly best buddies. Buffalo Bill had quite the resume: he rode for the Pony Express, served in the Civil War, and later became a scout for the U.S. Army. Then, of course, he created his Wild West show, which toured all across the U.S. and Europe. (Seriously, can you imagine seeing that in person?! I would’ve loved it.) In 1885, Sitting Bull—legendary Lakota leader and warrior—actually joined the show for about four months. It was a strange pairing, and yet… it sparked something like a friendship. Or at least a mutual understanding. Either way, it’s real, and that alone is fascinating to me.

What I love most about this image—and what inspired me to paint it—is the reminder that connection can show up in the most unlikely places. That even across big divides, a thread of friendship can still form, if we let it. It makes me think of the friendships in my own life. I feel incredibly lucky to still be close to a few friends I’ve had since I was a little girl growing up in Edmond, Oklahoma. That kind of lasting connection feels like a treasure these days. But I’ve also seen how some friendships drift quietly out of the frame—people I thought would always be part of the picture, suddenly not there anymore. It’s bittersweet. But I think it’s part of the ride.

When I painted Two Legends, I wasn’t just trying to capture a historical moment—I wanted to honor that layered complexity. The tension. The respect. The quiet sense that even brief connections can leave an imprint.

Technically, it was a challenge. I worked to preserve the weathered look of the original photo, but also breathe new life into it through color and brushwork. I spent a lot of time with their faces—every crease and shadow felt like a conversation. Sitting Bull's gaze is steady, proud, unwavering. Buffalo Bill’s expression reads a bit more performative, but not without sincerity. It was important to me that both men be portrayed with dignity—aware of their legacies, and maybe, in some unspoken way, aware of each other.

People sometimes ask if it’s hard to “let go” of a painting once it’s finished, especially after spending so many hours with it. And the answer is yes—sometimes it really is. But Two Legends felt different. It felt like I was just borrowing that moment for a little while. Just long enough to sit with it, honor it, and pass it along.

If you saw Two Legends during my Open Studio this May, thank you for pausing with it. For standing in front of those two legendary figures and feeling, like I did, the strange and beautiful echo of connection—across time, across cultures, across everything.

Two Legends is still available, and you can view it on my website—or feel free to reach out to me directly if you’d like more information. I’d be happy to share more about the piece.