I drive by a lot of barns, but I only photograph those that speak to me, I hear them calling out, mostly they say, hey, take a photo of me, remember me, my time is coming, keep a record of us so that people won’t forget us. They aren’t complaining voices, not lamenting their fate, just accepting it, ready to move on to the next thing. I love taking photos of the, I talk back to them, but am shy about sharing those words.