As you get older, see more of the world, and develop fond memories of particular places, it’s easy to become partial to certain environments and certain landscapes. An early beach trip with the family might draw you back to the shoreline more often than not. A ski trip with old friends might pull you to the slopes nearly every winter. There’s a fondness you develop over time—a deeper connection, really—to these places that you can’t find anywhere else.
For Jess Mudgett, it’s anywhere among the sagebrush. As a painter, outdoorsman, and hunter, Jess is always on the move pursuing something that drives him. If you want to mail him a letter or a care package, it’s best to confirm his whereabouts before paying for postage.
Growing up, Jess called Fort Collins, Colorado home. He would explore the sprawling prairies along the Wyoming border, and soak up everything his father would teach him about the history of their environs.
“My dad was a Western history scholar and an antique dealer. He’d bring home everything from native artifacts to Charles Russell paintings that displayed the beauty and nature of the Old West, and I was incredibly intrigued by everything he would show me. I was exposed to an older way of life at a young age through my dad, and that just kind of stayed with me even if I didn't see it at the time.
As an artist, the experiences I had at home and in the surrounding outdoors shaped me in various ways that I also wasn't really aware of until later in life—where I was like, ‘Oh, wow. I kind of hate being in dense trees and I love being able to see for miles.’ Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of love for the Rocky Mountains, but growing up on the front range—right in the middle of both the plains and the mountains—was incredibly special.
You get to have a variety of experiences between the two. Whether it's going hunting for grouse in the eastern plains or being up in the mountains and fly fishing with your dad or spotting elk, moose, and bears—it’s a very unique place to grow up.”
For a few years in his late teens and early 20s, Jess called Portland, Oregon home. More recently he’s bunked up in Washington state. But these homes have always been more of physical addresses than places of solace. The sagebrush has always called him back, forcing his hand to load up the truck and get motoring in search of that alluring habitat.
“I think the sagebrush and the open country is full of life. There's so much that you can find out there if you spend some time not talking and just walking around. That’s one of the reasons that I love it the most—you're able to be out there, alone and in the quiet.
Whether that's working on horseback, looking for arrowheads on foot, or hunting an animal, there's so much that can be done out there. And our country is so full of the sagebrush that I think a lot of people think it’s ugly—I can’t help but think the exact opposite. I think it's beautiful to be out there after a fresh rain and you smell the wet sagebrush, it's a really cool zone to be in.”
A decade back, Jess and his good friend, Josh Neff, were working on the Neff family ranch in southeast Oregon. During their days off, the young ranch hands would explore the area where they became extremely familiar with the local land and lore—including one abandoned building in particular.
Completely out of place, yet perfectly planted off the highway, this abandoned building the only man-made structure for miles, and over the years, dozens of artists have added their mark to the building with sprawling murals of their own design. Jess and Josh mentally filed away this bizarre locale engulfed by an ocean of sagebrush, hoping to eventually put their own stamp on it.
“I love the idea that there's this place that seems so insignificant and finding beauty in it. Josh and I have a similar fascination with these forgotten spaces, and I think it’s why he and I are such good friends now. When we were younger, we would get in his little Honda Accord—back before we even had trucks or anything like that—and we would drive for days on end just to camp in tents among the sagebrush. Josh would be shooting cool film photos of stuff that he would see, and I would be getting my own inspiration for my painting.”
Maybe it was the sagebrush hollering especially loud to Jess, or maybe it was just happenstance, but a couple months back, Jess caught a wild hair and thought it was time he and Josh made good on their promise. That abandoned building along a desolate stretch of highway near the Oregon and Nevada border was officially going to get a fresh coat of paint.
They got their ducks in a row, rustled up all their gear and supplies, and met up at the coordinates that they ear marked so long ago. From sunup to sundown, they worked on the mural, never needing more than a glance over the horizon for a quick hit of inspiration. After a couple of days and a couple buckets of paint, their mural was completed.
It pays homage to the wild coyotes that roam the sagebrush—howling late at night as the full moon bathes the prairie in cool, blue light. It also represents the profound connection Jess has to the landscape and all that it has provided him over the years: fond memories of hunting for grouse as a kid, a spot to reconnect with old friends, and a bottomless well of artistic inspiration.
Jess and Josh know that their mural will eventually be painted over by another artist. That’s just how it goes. This voyage was never about making something permanent, but returning to a place that means so much to them. A place among the sagebrush that feels more like home than any four walls and a roof ever could.
