As I travel the roads of Vermont and witness the remnants of farms gone by, I imagine the farmers whose long hours of hard work left grooves in their faces and dirt under their fingernails. I imagine the children who grew up on those farms, running barefoot through pastures, side by side with the very cows that kept their bellies full of rich creamy milk.

My fascination with cows was birthed when I began spending time on my partner’s dairy farm. The interaction between cow and farmer captivated me. How well they seemed to know each other, how well they seemed to communicate. As if both farmer and cow knew that their very life depended on the other. Green, lush pastures tenderly cared for by farmer… and in exchange, sweet rich milk given by cow.

 Perhaps it is the routine that allows the cow to appear smarter than it really is, but I don’t think so. There is a knowing one senses, a connection one feels when looking into the eyes of the cow or sitting next to it’s large warm body.  A connection so sweet that it bears a sense of loss, as one by one our family farms disappear.

 The gentle and giving nature of the cow is what I strive to bring forth in this series of drawings. I urge the viewer to look beyond just the image of the cow and rather reflect on all we have gained from its presence, and all we stand to lose with the passing of our small, family dairy farms.