When I began this painting, I had a clear vision:
I wanted to capture one of those stormy skies that makes you stop in your tracks.
You know the kind.
The clouds roll in, dark and wild—full of mood and movement—
but just below, the earth still holds its light.
I was chasing that contrast.
That moment right before the rain comes.
Where the wheat fields glow golden under a brooding sky.
So I did what I planned to do:
I made the sky the main event—three-fourths of the canvas.
Swirls of white, black, brown, and blue danced across the surface.
Below it, a field. Bright, expectant.
It was dramatic. It was moody. It was everything I set out to create.
And then came Day Two.
I returned to the canvas feeling settled. Maybe even done.
But my hand moved differently that day.
Without thinking, I reached for a small brush—one I rarely use.
Dropped it in red paint.
And before I could even ask myself why...
a tiny red barn appeared.
Crisp. Certain. Unapologetically present.
I froze. Because I knew.
That wasn’t just instinct or impulse.That was the small voice.
The one I believe is the voice of God.
And it said, clear as anything:
“This painting isn’t about the sky.
It’s not about the contrast.
It’s about this red barn.”
Everything else—every swirl, every shadow, every patch of light—
was only there to support this.
This small, square, steady presence
that holds its ground when the world shifts.
And then the message came:
Be the red barn.
Be the part of you that doesn’t move.
Be the part of you that stays grounded, even when the skies are swirling.
Be the part that doesn’t explain itself, doesn’t perform, doesn’t rush.
Be the presence.
Be the shelter.
Be the stillness in the storm.
I didn’t set out to paint a red barn.
But I’m so grateful I listened when it arrived.
If you need that reminder too—if you need something in your home to steady you, center you, ground you—this little red barn may be just for you.
Hang it near your meditation space, or tuck it along a hallway where it can quietly meet your gaze each day.
Let it remind you: you are the one who stays.
there are prints available.
Maybe this little red barn is meant to be your message, too.
Prints are available. The Red Barn
If you’ve found something here that resonates—if my words, Notes, or art have stirred something awake in you—I invite you to support this work directly. Not everyone wants to subscribe through Substack, and that’s okay. If you'd like to make a one-time contribution, you can do so here:
Every dollar helps me keep doing this work from a place of freedom, integrity, and full creative fire. $45 supports time, tools, and the quiet hours it takes to create work that speaks to the soul—yours and mine. Thank you for walking this path with me.



Thank you for your blessing, and please receive mine in return. May your own grounded barn within stay strong through whatever skies roll in—and may your light continue to shine for others, just as you’ve done here with your message. 💫❤️
So beautiful. We so need red barns in our lives. ❤️