Golden trout

Going Fishing

Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished & muscular & torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps & mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man & they hummed of…

Golden Trout, Joseph R. Tomelleri, color pencil

This is CAWS 75....a good round number on which to end. At the beginning, I had no idea the scans (or I) would last for 75 weeks. The many ads posted in a year and a half are probably 2/3 of the total done in my career. Many have been lost, proofs sent to clients and AD's that were never returned. Many were not worth saving or showing....but, enough have to get an idea how one western illustrator survived, supported a family, enjoyed his work, and enjoyed the many friends, events, and…