The Barn Collective

One daddy, three little girls, an old oak table, a pack of paper, and a handful of pens and pencils... And we drew. And we watched him draw. And it was one of the best memories we could carry into adulthood. A menagerie of winter evenings spent around the table with our dad while Mom washed the supper dishes.

Dad drew farms, trains, and ships. He drew people and animals, but they usually turned out clunky and awkward. We didn't mind, we only loved his presence with us and his enthusiasm.

If only we had saved all the farms and barns our father drew. All these years later, a handful remain, far fewer than the number of memories tucked away in our hearts. He passed his passions on to us, and fanned the fire when we developed passions of our own. He'd be amused to find our farm now has a flock a splendid looking chickens. And he's be more than happy to help us eat the eggs that will one day begin to appear.

Come visit The Barn Collective with Tom.