While the women were all working on the doorknob, I took a short walk around Bejosh Farm and ended up in Ed’s lair, his workshop which took up a full barn and two or three adjoining barns in the rear.

Ed was a collector and hoarder of farm implements, the parts and pieces and took he used to make his sculptures, lawn flowers, wind chimes and larger pieces. Ed collect screws and bolts and tractor parts all of his life, he bought them, traded for them, bartered for them and found them.

His barns could well be a farm museum, a history of industrial agriculture in American until the mega-corporations took over the industry and drove the family farms into the ground.

Ed’s workshop reminded me that nothing or no one can really replace him. This was his creative center, and you can tell a lot about someone from his creative center.

This was the place of his  rebirth, of his home-grown creativity of his love for farming and of his creative spark.

Without him, this workshop is just  another pile of stuff in a barn. I imagine it will be given away, sold or  auctioned off one day, there are lots of valuable old farm tools inside. When I stop, I can see him, banging away at a twisted piece of motor shaft or strut, showing Maria and me his latest creation.

You would just not believe how much stuff he had that exist through three different buidings right through that door by the right corner  up top. This is the work of a lifetime.

Ed loved being an artist, almost as much, I think as he loved farming. That kind fo passion  is infectious.

It is quiet now in the barn, some people  fill a space so powerfully than you can see them and hear them even when they are not there.

That is how Ed is. His spirit is all over this workshop and it is impossible for me to imagine anyone else working in there..