09/14/2026
I was captivated by her energy, something quietly magnetic about this Serbian woman whose family roots traced back to the Balkans.
Sophia led me beyond the beautiful property in front of her home to an old, deserted barn that had been part of the land for nearly 50 or 60 years. It looked almost untouched by time. Old tires, tall grass, forgotten pieces of trash, and weathered wood surrounded a barn that looked as though no one had cared for it in decades.
Sophia thought I was a little crazy when I told her I wanted to photograph it. To her, it was probably just an old barn. But to me, that faded red carried something different. It reminded me of old Americana, a piece of another generation still standing quietly in the landscape.
Sometimes photography is about talking to the locals, listening to their stories, and letting them show you the things you would never find on your own.
Then the light hit.
The sun caught the barn and the tree beside it perfectly, creating this beautiful glow around the scene. I knew immediately that was the moment.
A few minutes later, Sophia stepped underneath the tree. She wanted a few personal photographs for herself, and she became an incredible model for the scene. Her Serbian and Balkan heritage gave her a distinctly Slavic beauty that I became fascinated with photographing. Though she was a first-generation American, there was something in her features that seemed to carry generations of her family’s history.
She became the first Slavic model I had ever photographed, and it was genuinely an honor and a privilege to capture her there.
What began as an old barn that she thought I was crazy for photographing became one of our most popular prints.
Sometimes the places everyone else overlooks are the ones waiting to become art.
Click.
“The Ember Barn”
