{"id":143,"date":"2024-01-18T16:29:00","date_gmt":"2024-01-18T16:29:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/?p=143"},"modified":"2026-04-07T19:23:00","modified_gmt":"2026-04-07T19:23:00","slug":"post-three","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/?p=143","title":{"rendered":"Barns and Brownstones"},"content":{"rendered":"

I live in an area where old barns stand among the backdrop. While this implies a countrified community, this same area is also surrounded by cities, strip malls, and freeways all bursting at the seams!<\/p>\n

I suppose the certainty of suburban sprawl best explains why I\u2019m drawn to the beauty of old barns. They seem to stand stoically among the imposition of youth and uncertainty of change. It’s like their worn and withered walls echo the anecdotes of evolvement, subtly whitewashed by the hands of time.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But, thanks to the people of preservation, what remains of this area\u2019s precious open space is fiercely protected! New neighborhoods now nestle up to nostalgia, where orchards and outbuildings adorn crowded corridors. It\u2019s common to see stylish stucco homes neighboring aged A-frames, once home to animals and alfalfa.<\/p>\n

My infatuation with old barns is a case of loving only for looks, as it’s the exterior that draws me in. To be clear, I don\u2019t mean literally \u201cin,\u201d as the inside of an old barn is often brimming with bats and bugs! But, despite this minor flaw, I love gazing at the outside of old barns. The walls resonate with a reminiscence of happier days and simpler times. I find myself wanting to wrap my arms around their broken beauty and whisper, \u201cHang in there a little longer. Some of us are bent, too, and we\u2019re counting on you to stay strong.\u201d<\/p>\n

Staring at these structures makes me feel so good that I always slow the car, often stopping if the romance of good lighting lures when traveling their adjacent roads. This love affair is evident by the labeling on my camera\u2019s memory cards, \u201cOld barns, DO NOT REMOVE.\u201d These are the megabytes I can\u2019t muster the strength to destroy with death by deletion.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But, I take comfort in knowing that other people are also afflicted with BGOD, Barn-Gazing-Obsessive-Disorder. These folks are willing to pay good money for artsy photos and paintings of the solitary structures. It\u2019s even become trendy to install a rustic barn door inside of an upscale home.<\/p>\n

Once, while searching the web for images of old barns, I stumbled upon a site called The National Barn Alliance. Of course, curiosity captured me as I read, \u201cWe are coordinating preservation efforts to save America\u2019s Historic Barns.\u201d Wow! What is this wonderful non-profit, and who are these people? The next sentence answered that question: “Our members are farmers, city dwellers, historical groups, and lots of folks who just love barns.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes were reading faster than my mind could comprehend when they caught sight of something about the NBA. I nearly fell off my chair anticipating an alliance with my favorite basketball players, who must also love barns. Images of a shirtless Steph Curry posing by a backlit barn flashed before it was clear that NBA is an acronym for National Barn Alliance. The writers of their website might want to rethink that verbiage. I\u2019m sure others have experienced this same letdown when learning there are no professional basketball players involved in preserving old barns.<\/p>\n

Of the many barns in my area, I do have a favorite. When I’m near its vicinity, I’ll drive below the speed limit to admire its beauty longer than what my lead-foot would normally allow. I owe this favorite barn a great debt of gratitude as I bet it\u2019s saved me a few hundred bucks and time spent answering, \u201cM\u2019am, do you know how fast you were going?\u201d I\u2019d be tempted to reply, \u201cYes, Officer, and I was making record time before you stopped me to answer this question.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sadly, my favorite barn is in pretty bad shape. The front door hangs askew, and the interior is exposed, so I succumb to temptation and sneak a peek. Unlike the others, this is the only barn where what’s on the inside matters as much as its outward appearance. For it\u2019s there, I may find the ghost of my younger self, playing with a friend, tossing hay toward where her outstretched arms stood waiting. Her parents owned the property where it\u2019s housed, along with the horses and barn animals that went with it. I don\u2019t know what happened to that family, my friend, or the animals. But I can still see them. Their faces flash before me whenever I drive by that barn.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m cognizant that the hands of time are not constant. So, for now, I’ll stay in the space between past and present, where old barns beckon and I always hear their call. When pictures speak a thousand words, offering comfort and condolence to times long gone by. A place where I accept there is no cure for my BGOD, yet find relief and contentment in that fact. It’s here where I\u2019ll admire an old barn\u2019s beauty, not only with the click of my camera but deep in my core, in a special space between city and country, that I call home.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I live in an area where old barns stand among the backdrop. While this implies a countrified community, this same area is also surrounded by cities, strip malls, and freeways all bursting at the seams! I suppose the certainty of suburban sprawl best explains why I\u2019m drawn to the beauty of old barns. They seem … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1511,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/143"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=143"}],"version-history":[{"count":84,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/143\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2929,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/143\/revisions\/2929"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1511"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=143"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=143"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stumblingtowardartistry.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=143"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}