Country Lifestyle
June 2018 Profile: Steve Boaldin
Cowboys on Canvas
By Laci Jones
He never dreamed he would be on television. The humble artist with a kind smile expressed his vision to tell the stories of cowboys through his art, but God had other plans for the artist. Through his new television series titled “Art of a Cowboy,” Steve Boaldin meets with different cowboys and ranchers across the Midwest to share their stories on the screen as well as on canvas.
A cowboy himself, Boaldin’s own story began on a ranch in Elkhart, Kan., in 1962. The most enjoyable part of his childhood was working cattle as a family.
“I was very fortunate that God allowed me to be born and raised on a ranch or none of this would’ve happened,” the cowboy explained. “We were big farmers and ranchers, but my particular interest was ranching.”
His father made sure all five of his children knew how to ride horses. They attended many rodeos throughout the years, a sport that Boaldin picked up on. His parents did not want him riding rough stock because of the danger involved, but the 10-year-old cowboy had other plans.
“I had three buddies who had already been riding steers for a couple of years, and I wanted to do it so bad,” he added. “One of my teachers secretly entered me in a steer riding contest in Clayton, N.M. I told my parents I was just going to go and watch the other guys.”
The young steer rider placed fourth in the rodeo and won a belt buckle.
“I had to hide that buckle for a couple of weeks because I did not know how to tell my parents,” he added.
Boaldin finally told his parents the truth. While he was in trouble for deceiving them, they decided to give him another chance at the sport. He went on to win first place in the next three rodeos. He started riding bareback broncs and continued to rope calves, but bull riding was his best sport.
“Cowboys are a symbol of rugged, tough Americans,” he said. “Cowboys will always be something that’s bigger than life to me.”
The cowboy lifestyle would become the focal point of his art, which started at three years old. Boaldin told funny stories with his little cartoons.
His family fostered his passion for drawing by keeping his artwork. His grandmother, who was also a good artist, noticed the young artist’s talent. She gave him Walter Foster art books that helped young artists learn how to draw. She also encouraged him by providing him with his first paint set.
A self-described “average student,” Boaldin did not attend a formal college after graduating high school but worked on the family ranch instead.
“I had no plans to go to school because I was just young and did not know what I wanted to do,” he added.
The year before he got married, some locals met a traveling art teacher named George “Dord” Fitz and took a few classes. The locals told the artist about Boaldin’s abilities and suggested he help the young artist.
“His first thoughts were ‘There is no way an 18-year-old was going to be serious about art,’” Boaldin explained. “He was in his 70s at that time, but we just clicked when we met.”
Fitz was generous and allowed the Kansas native to take two classes for the price of one for two years. Before, he had worked primarily with black and white, but he began to learn to understand color theory and how to apply paint from Fitz. He described the experience as “a whole new world.”
“It was a big change for me because not only do you have to pay attention to the values, but you have to pay attention to hues,” the artist explained.
At the end of those two years, Boaldin married his high school sweetheart in 1981, and he quit taking classes to focus on providing for his family.
In 1982, he decided to get serious about his art and moved to Amarillo, Texas, where Fitz had a gallery. He picked back up on taking lessons from him while working full-time in feedlots. Boaldin lost many hours of sleep, but his hard work paid off when his mentor began selling his pieces.
“Even at that age, he was very encouraging,” he explained. “He would tell people ‘Someday this guy is going to be famous, and you need to get in on his early work.’”
While he almost expected to be famous, Boaldin said it did not work quite that way.
“I heard this guy say it takes thousands of miles of canvas to improve,” the artist said. “That is basically what I’ve found to be true. We want to throw some stuff away, but at the same time, it’s good to see where you come from.”
In 1985, the Boaldins moved to Elkhart, Kan., where he started working in feedlots and with his dad on the ranch. However, it did not take the artist long to realize he could not support his family there, but he wanted to stay in the industry.
“I couldn’t get the cowboy stuff out of my blood,” the cowboy explained.
Throughout the next few years, he worked on various feedlots in Texas, but he found he enjoyed the ranch life better. He took a job in Miami, Texas, managing 19-sectioned pastures. They ran 1,200 head of yearlings and farmed 600 acres of wheat.
“It was 10 days a week,” Boaldin joked. “It was one of those deals where I really had to grow up really fast. I knew that was not a place where I was going to end up, but I’m thankful for the experiences. I know what it takes when I do a painting because I’ve been there.”
The experiences on ranches and feedlots gave him a subject for his art, but his wife Donna was credited for pushing the artist to pursue his passion. She knew he wanted to be an artist, and she suggested Boaldin get a commercial art degree.
“I knew I would never be able to work 60, 70 or 80 hours a week on a farm and be an artist,” he explained. “Realistically, I needed to get in the field in some way.”
They relocated to Edmond, Okla., where he was able to get a grant to further his education. The Kansas native enrolled in production art at Platt College.
Boaldin was later hired by “The Oklahoman” in their advertising department, but he became an editorial artist within six months. The artist honed his skills drawing illustrations, which he said helped his art grow.
“I’ve always studied the illustrators of the ‘70s,” Boaldin added. “Those guys got to paint and draw every day. By the time computers started coming in, the artists didn’t have to do as many illustrations.”
The artist was fortunate to have several opportunities to work on illustrations. He also learned how to work quickly, a skill that benefited him later. He was a commercial artist for “The Oklahoman” for a total of 24 years. When he was laid off in October 2016, he did not know what God had in store for the next chapter of his life.
“I do believe in God,” he began. “I believe in his timing. He always kind of pushes me to the last second.”
His next chapter began when the owner of the Dean Lively Gallery in Edmond, Okla., Elaine Dean, hosted an opening night for the artist. Saraa Kami left her card with his wife Donna.
At the urging of his wife, the husband-wife duo met with Kami the following day. The artist told her about visiting with a client, who happened to be a Drummond, at the Tallgrass Art Gallery in Pawhuska, Okla., earlier that year.
“I wanted to get some different cowboys and go to a different ranch,” Boaldin recalled.
He visited their ranch in Hominy, Okla., in spring 2017, where he took approximately 1,200 pictures of the cowboys, animals and scenery. He then used the material to create more art for his collection.
“I said this is something that just really hit me,” he recalled. “I would love to go to ranches all across the United States and tell their stories.”
When he told her this, Kami knew how to tell their stories to the masses. She envisioned a television series centered around the idea of visiting ranches and telling their story on canvas as well as on screen. Ralph and Helen Mason sponsored their new endeavor.
“Within five days of conception of the idea, we were on my family’s ranch filming the first episode,” the artist recalled. “It was that quick, and believe me, I was a deer in the headlights.”
They had enough footage to create a trailer for “Art of a Cowboy,” which Kami sent to the Oklahoma Education Television Authority. OETA bought the idea from that trailer, listing Kami and Boaldin as co-creators of the show.
Pick up the June issue of OKFR to read more about Steve Boaldin and “Art of a Cowboy.”
Country Lifestyle
Tracks in the Sand
By Savannah Magoteaux
This morning, I walked out into my arena and noticed something that gave me pause. The roping steers had been in there the day before, and even though the ground was wide and level, the dirt carried their story. Hoofprints crossed every direction, but in several spots, the same trail was pressed deeper than the rest. Twelve steers had been turned out, yet more than a few chose the exact same path, wearing it down until it stood out from all the other tracks.
Cattle are creatures of habit. Anyone who has spent time around them knows this. They like routine: the same feed, the same water trough, the same shade tree in the pasture. When they are turned loose, they rarely wander without purpose. More often than not, they move together, following the same course as the steer in front of them. There are reasons for this: efficiency, safety, instinct. Walking a beaten path conserves energy, and following the herd is their natural defense. Even in an arena with no real destination, those instincts come through. By the end of a short turnout, you will see the evidence, lines where they have chosen the easiest way to travel and stuck with it.
Out on the range, those lines last longer. Before fences and highways, cattle drives cut deep paths across the land. The Chisholm Trail, which carried herds north from Texas through Oklahoma into Kansas, was walked by millions of cattle in the late 1800s. More than a century later, faint traces of those trails remain, worn so deep by hooves and wagon wheels that the land still carries the mark. On ranches today, you can see the same effect in pastures where cattle walk the same lines between water and grazing. From the ground, those trails might look like nothing more than dusty ruts, but from the air, they sometimes stand out as sharp lines winding through otherwise open fields. Cattle do not simply pass over the land; they shape it. Every step adds up.
That simple truth extends beyond livestock. We all make tracks. Our habits and routines are our trails, worn in by repetition, sometimes efficient, sometimes limiting. Like the cow paths, they can serve a purpose, keeping us steady and helping us move forward. But when repeated without thought, they risk becoming ruts, keeping us from stepping into new ground. History offers perspective here, too. The old cattle trails built towns and economies, but once railroads and fences changed the landscape, those paths were no longer helpful. Sticking to them would have meant going in circles. Progress required something new.
The Tracks We Leave
Standing in the arena, I thought about the kind of tracks I leave behind. Most of mine are not visible in the dirt. They are pressed into my daily life, how I work, the way I handle challenges, and the example I set. Some are helpful and worth keeping. Others may have outlived their purpose. The difference lies in knowing when to stay on the track and when to step off it.
Tomorrow I will drag the arena and smooth it all clean again. The next time the steers are turned in, they will make the same trails. That is their nature. But unlike them, I have a choice. I can decide which paths are worth walking, which ones to change, and what kind of tracks I want to leave for others who might follow.
Tracks tell a story. Sometimes they are only temporary, fading with the next rain. Other times, they last for generations, reminders of where herds and people once walked. This morning, the cattle showed me again that even the smallest things on the ranch carry meaning. Their tracks in the arena were not just marks in the dirt. They are a lesson showing that every step matters, and the paths we choose shape more than just the ground beneath our feet.
References
Jordan, T. G. Trails to Texas: Southern Roots of Western Cattle Ranching. University of Nebraska Press, 1981.
Frantz, J. B. “The Chisholm Trail.” Handbook of Texas Online, Texas State Historical Association.
Bailey, C. “Animal Behavior and Herd Dynamics in Cattle.” Oklahoma State University Extension, 2019.
National Park Service. “Chisholm Trail: Herding Cattle and History.” https://www.nps.gov
Country Lifestyle
Apple Fritter Quick Bread
Total Time: 1 hour and 40 minutes
Servings: 10
2 medium apples (any type), peeled, cored & diced
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup milk
For the Glaze:
- 1/2 cup (60g) powdered sugar
1–2 tbsp milk
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and line a 9×5-inch loaf pan with parchment paper.
Peel and chop apples and place in a bowl with brown sugar and cinnamon. Toss and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and granulated sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time, then add vanilla. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder. Gradually add dry ingredients to the butter mixture, alternating with milk, mixing until just combined.
Next, pour half of the batter into the loaf pan, top with half of the apple mixture, then repeat with remaining batter and apples. Lightly swirl with a knife for a marbled effect.
Bake for 50–55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
In a small bowl, whisk together powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla until smooth. Drizzle over cooled bread.
Slice and enjoy warm or at room temperature.
Country Lifestyle
From Savior to Lord
At a funeral I went to recently, the preacher said something that has stayed with me. He reminded us that, for the man we were honoring, God went from being Savior to Lord.
That phrase captures a turning point in faith. When we first come to know Christ, it’s with gratitude for His saving grace. It’s personal, almost inward-looking: Jesus rescued me. He forgave me. He gave me new life. In that moment, He is our Savior.
But faith is not meant to remain only in the relief of salvation. Over time, we are called to move from simply being saved to truly being led. To call Jesus Lord is to hand Him the reins, to let Him set the course. It means the decisions we make, the way we spend our time, and even the way we handle hardship reflect His authority instead of our own desires.
That shift isn’t dramatic or loud — it’s usually lived out in the everyday. It’s choosing honesty when cutting corners would be easier. It’s setting aside pride to serve others. It’s holding firm in values even when the world says compromise. It’s forgiving, even when it costs something.
And for people who work the land or care for animals, this truth feels especially close. We know what it means to trust something bigger than ourselves — the rain, the soil, the cattle in our care. A rancher can do everything right, but at the end of the day, much is still beyond his control. Faith works the same way. We can’t stop at receiving salvation like a safety net. We have to surrender daily, trusting God to lead, provide, and direct, even when we don’t know what’s ahead.
Scripture asks it plainly: “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46). The challenge is clear — it isn’t enough to know God as Savior. We are called to live with Him as Lord.
Salvation is the beginning, but lordship is the journey. And just like tending a crop or training a good rope horse, it’s a steady, daily process. Rescue is where faith starts. Surrender is where it grows strong.
-
Country Lifestyle1 year agoJuly 2017 Profile: J.W. Hart
-
Attractions9 years ago48 Hours in Atoka Remembered
-
Equine8 years agoUmbilical Hernia
-
Country Lifestyle4 years agoThe Two Sides of Colten Jesse
-
Outdoors8 years agoGrazing Oklahoma: Honey Locust
-
Farm & Ranch7 years agoHackberry (Celtis spp.)
-
Country Lifestyle9 years agoThe House a Treasure Built
-
Equine5 years agoOn the Road with Emily Miller-Beisel




