Some places settle into you early and never really leave. For me, the Buffalo National River is one of those places.
I grew up in the Ozarks, in southwest Missouri between Springfield and Branson, right along the James River. The outdoors were always part of my life. Through Scouting, weekends were spent camping, hiking, and learning how to be comfortable outside, often along the upper stretches of the Buffalo. Those early trips planted something deep. The sandstone bluffs, the cold clear water, and the quiet pine forests felt steady and familiar.
As I got older, that connection only deepened. In my late teens and into adulthood, I began spending more and more time on the Buffalo. I hiked most of the Buffalo River Trail, fished its waters extensively, and eventually canoed the river in its entirety. Even after all that time, it still feels like I have barely scratched the surface. The Buffalo has a way of revealing itself slowly, rewarding patience, curiosity, and return visits.
This print began as something personal. I originally made Go Float the Buffalo for my dad. We spent a lot of time together there while I was growing up. Backpacking the trails, camping along the banks, and floating the lower Buffalo in the summer and fall. He is the person who introduced me to my love for the outdoors and encouraged me to get outside, even when it was uncomfortable or inconvenient. In many ways, this print is a thank you, and a reminder of those shared miles and quiet moments.
The artwork itself reflects that layered experience. The bottom layer is blue, featuring a topographic map of the upper Buffalo River, grounding the piece in a very real and specific place. Over that sits a red layer with an elk and two smallmouth bass. The elk represents one of Arkansas’s only native elk herds, while the bass nod to the river’s life and the countless hours spent fishing its waters. The final green layer brings people into the scene, a canoe moving through the river beneath the words “go float the buffalo.” It is an invitation as much as it is a statement.
Printed as a three color risograph, this piece embraces texture, overlap, and imperfection. Each layer shifts slightly, creating movement and depth, much like the river itself. No two prints are exactly the same, which feels right for a place that has never been static to me.
This print is about place, memory, and gratitude. It is about loving a landscape deeply, knowing you will never fully know it, and returning anyway. If it encourages even one person to slow down, get outside, and float the Buffalo, then it has done its job.
