Welcome to the Mess in My Head Literally everyone tells me I should write a blog, do a podcast, or start a YouTube channel.Well… this is...

The True Story It was the French Quarter, years ago. Midnight had already passed, but the city still pulsed like it always does. A...

There’s a place at the corner of paint and memory, where the night hums with stories and the light is never just electric. It’s the...

Some paintings arrive like whispers. Others crash into you like thunder.This one came like both. I painted A Beautiful Ache  after a day...

By Esteban They weren’t born from sketches or plans. They emerged—one by one—from the smears, the streaks, the arguments between brush...

—by Stephen “Esteban” Harrelson It started like any other night. Humidity hung low over the back porch where I paint and fight...

On the painting: Le Chapeau Rouge She sat in their churches. Painted lips, hat tilted just so, she watched the room rise in song. She...

I remember when I first realized my mom was slipping away. At first, she tried to hide it—jokes to cover forgotten names, little laughs...

Blog Post: When Daughters Dance in Fire When our first daughter, Katherine, was born, there wasn’t a single functioning hospital in our...