What We Carried Into the Room: Reflections from Opening Night at the Barns of Rose Hill

On Saturday evening, March 7th, the upstairs gallery at the Barns of Rose Hill slowly filled with people. Some were friends and familiar faces, others were visitors I was meeting for the first time. As you entered the room, it began to take on the kind of atmosphere I had hoped for when imagining Life Extended—a formal exhibition and a living room (a room of life) where people could gather, reflect, and share space together.

I want to begin simply by saying thank you. Thank you to everyone who came, who listened, who participated, and who allowed themselves to be part of something a little unusual and very personal.

The Barns of Rose Hill was already a beautiful venue, but there was something particularly special about seeing this body of work in that space. The warm wood of the gallery and the openness of the room seemed to hold the paintings in a way that felt natural and generous. It was, without question, my favorite venue this work has been shown in so far.

The evening unfolded gently. People arrived around six o’clock and began exploring the exhibition while conversations drifted through the gallery. At 6:30 we gathered around the television upstairs to watch a short film—spoken word paired with footage of the paintings coming into being. Immediately after, two new paintings were revealed for the first time.

But the heart of the evening wasn’t just the paintings. It was the participation.

Throughout the first hour, guests were invited to interact with several installations placed throughout the room. A red telephone waited quietly on a small table, inviting visitors to pick up the receiver and leave a message for someone they love. Nearby, a tree stood in the center of the room, where postcards and ribbons slowly accumulated as people wrote notes and tied them to its branches.

These elements were created in collaboration with Cheri Neilsen, whose late husband’s memorial was held at the Barns of Rose Hill. Together, we wanted to create a space that felt domestic and welcoming—something like stepping into a living room inside the gallery, where memory and conversation could exist alongside the artwork.

Memory boxes were placed around the room as well, filled with small objects and fragments to explore. People opened them quietly, often lingering longer than expected.

Then at seven o’clock, the evening shifted.

Cheri and friends began the musical portion of the night, filling the gallery with songs that felt both intimate and expansive. Between each piece, the music dissolved into layered soundscapes made from instruments, environmental recordings, and archived voices. During these moments, people moved slowly through the space, returning to the memory boxes or standing quietly with the paintings.

Near the end of the performance, something beautiful happened. Recordings captured earlier in the evening from the red telephone began to play softly through the soundscape. The audience’s own voices—messages left for loved ones—became part of the piece itself.

It was a powerful moment of shared vulnerability and care.

By the end of the night, one painting had found a new home, and several visitors had entered the raffle for a custom painting. I was deeply grateful for that support, and for the many conversations that followed throughout the evening.

If you weren’t able to attend the opening, the exhibition remains on view at the Barns of Rose Hill through April 10. The Barns will also be hosting several events during that time—including a free concert this coming weekend, which is a wonderful opportunity to visit the gallery and experience the work.

The raffle for a custom 16 × 20 inch painting is also open until April 10. We’ve raised $100 toward our $2,000 goal so far, and I would truly love your help in reaching it.

If the work resonated with you, or if you’re looking for a way to support, entering the raffle is a meaningful way to do so. Even if we do not meet our goal this time, supporting me here helps continue to make these experiences possible.

Support Us / Enter The Raffle

Most importantly, I encourage you to continue supporting the Barns of Rose Hill and the work they do for artists and the community. Spaces like this made evenings like Saturday possible. Check out upcoming events on their website, and see the work now through April 11th.

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To everyone who came, listened, wrote messages, sang along, or simply spent time in the room—thank you. You helped turn an exhibition into something living.

— K