Fields of Joy Farm & Studio
A place built around what makes us come alive.
Joy has a story.
Fields of Joy didn't begin with a business plan.
It began with a horse named Joy, a lifelong love of nature, a paintbrush, and more than a few impossible dreams. We've learned that joy matters far more than we give it credit.
Welcome to Fields of Joy
Hi, I'm Jenny
I'm a coach, artist, flower farmer-in-the-making, horse lover, seeker of possibility and the person behind Fields of Joy.
For nearly two decades, I've coached people through change, uncertainty, leadership, courage and some of life's big questions.
But Fields of Joy grew from one of my own:
What makes my heart sing?
The answers kept pointing me toward the same things.
Creating.
Nature.
Beauty.
Adventure.
Meaningful conversations.
Horses. Horses. Horses.
And doing things I wasn't entirely sure were possible.
Eventually, I decided to build a life - and a place - around them.
The road here wasn't exactly straight.
When I was 17, a downhill skiing accident changed my life in an instant.
I became quadriplegic and began navigating the world from a wheelchair.
That was more than four decades ago.
There have been hard things along the way. Really hard things.
But one of the things life has taught me is this:
Hard things and joy can exist at the same time.
Joy isn't pretending everything is wonderful.
It isn't positive thinking pasted over pain.
And it certainly isn't a life without grief, disappointment, fear or uncertainty.
Joy is something deeper.
It's noticing what's still beautiful.
It's connection.
It's curiosity.
It's creating something simply because you can.
It's laughing when nothing is particularly funny.
It's allowing yourself to want something.
And sometimes, it's deciding to attempt the impossible.
Then along came Joy.
oy was my Morgan horse.
And she changed something in me.
Horses had always been part of the life I loved, but after my accident I spent many years believing certain experiences simply weren't available to me anymore.
Joy helped challenge that story.
Together, we began carriage driving.
Suddenly I wasn't sitting on the sidelines watching someone else have an adventure.
I was driving.
I had reins in my hands.
I had somewhere to go.
And once you've done one thing you thought was impossible, you start wondering:
What else might be possible?
That question eventually led here.
55 acres and a very big idea.
In 2025, my husband, Pete, my mom, Margie, and I moved to 55 acres in northern Minnesota.
We built an accessible home and barn.
And we gave the place the only name that really made sense.
Fields of Joy.
The dream is to create a place where people can experience some of the things that have brought so much meaning to my own life—flowers, nature, animals, creativity, connection and possibility.
A place intentionally created so people of different abilities can participate, explore and belong.
A place where you can pick a bouquet.
Stand—or roll—among the flowers.
Make something.
Have a meaningful conversation.
Spend time with an animal.
Notice something beautiful.
Or simply breathe.
We're still building it.
And that's part of the adventure.
And then there's the studio.
Not all cultivating happens in the soil.
Some of it happens within us.
Fields of Joy Studio brings together two things I love: coaching and creating art.
They might seem unrelated.
I don't think they are.
Both ask us to pay attention.
Both require curiosity.
Both invite us to experiment.
Both occasionally require the courage to make a mess.
And neither requires knowing exactly where you're going before you begin.
I've spent nearly two decades coaching people to better understand themselves, challenge old stories and explore what's possible.
Painting gives me another way to do essentially the same thing—with considerably more color.
Why joy?
Because I don't think joy is frivolous.
I think it matters.
Joy gives us energy.
It connects us.
It expands our sense of possibility.
It helps us notice beauty in ordinary moments.
And sometimes it gives us enough fuel to keep moving through the difficult ones.
I don't believe we find joy once and somehow keep it forever.
We cultivate it.
We notice it.
We practice it.
We protect space for it.
We create it.
And occasionally, we chase it across a flower field.
This is Fields of Joy.
Part flower farm.
Part creative studio.
Part experiment.
Part impossible dream.
And very much a work in progress.
We're growing flowers.
We're making art.
We're having meaningful conversations.
We're creating accessible ways to experience nature.
We're exploring what joy looks like in real life—not the perfect Instagram version of it.
And we're seeing what happens when we make a little more room for the things that make our hearts sing.
I'm glad you're here.
— Jenny