I have an affinity for barns.
That came out sounding way too formal. Let’s start over.
I love barns. I have a thing for them. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s… no. I’m not even going to try to figure it out. I don’t need to.
But one thing is true that I will share. They make me feel safe.
I didn’t grow up on a farm and there’s no logical reason. They just do.
And I can never get away from the word “storehouse” when I think of trying to name a barn painting.
There are two words put together. I never saw that till just now. Store. House. If I wrote the emotions both words contain, it would be wonderfully rich.
But I’ll let you make your own list.
Sheesh. I’m circling the barn, right now, trying to get up the nerve to tell you about a daydream I had today standing at the kitchen sink.
I think in pictures, so I won’t call this a vision because I’m not sure if I’d know if I really had one.
So if I say, “I imagined” or “I saw” or “I heard these colors” or “it appeared to me” – well, they are all wrapped up together and I can’t separate them without some concentrated effort.
So, I’m just going to tell you about it the best I can.