What the Prairie Teaches Us About Light, Color, and Connection

There’s something about the prairie—its openness, its quiet power, its endless sky—that speaks to something deep in all of us. Even if you’ve never stood in the middle of one, I bet you’ve felt that same sense of vastness somewhere—staring at the ocean, looking up at a sky full of stars, or even in a quiet moment alone. It’s a feeling that puts life into perspective, that reminds us we’re part of something bigger.

That’s what I try to capture in my paintings—not just an image of the prairie, but the experience of being there.

The Prairie as a Place of Transformation

Art has a way of holding memories, of reminding us of the moments that shape us. My connection to the prairie started on the Konza, a place full of golden grasses and wide, open skies. It’s where my husband proposed, and it’s where I had my own realization about failure, resilience, and new beginnings. Maybe you’ve had a place like that—a space that helped you see something clearly, that shaped you in ways you didn’t expect.

That’s the beauty of art. A painting can hold not just a landscape but an entire feeling, a reminder of something you’ve known in your bones but maybe haven’t put into words.

Light, Color, and the Feeling of Being There

When you look at a prairie painting, you’re not just seeing land and sky—you’re stepping into a moment. The way the clouds swirl, the grasses bend, the light stretches across the horizon—it’s all movement, all energy. That’s why I don’t paint the prairie from strict reference images. I paint from memory, from feeling, from play.

And color? I don’t stick to what’s expected. The prairie isn’t just golden fields and blue skies—it’s pinks, purples, deep shadows, and unexpected hues that vibrate with life. I let color lead the way, because sometimes, the colors we don’t expect are the ones that stay with us the longest.

Why This Matters for You

Art isn’t just about what’s on the canvas—it’s about how it makes you feel. Maybe you’re drawn to that sense of openness, that deep breath of space. Maybe you need a reminder that even in stillness, there is movement, that even in simplicity, there is complexity.

That’s the power of the prairie—it invites you in. It reminds you that you don’t have to fill every space with noise. That there is beauty in quiet. That light and shadow both have their place.

And if one of these paintings speaks to you—if you feel something shift when you look at it—then maybe the prairie is calling you, too.