Where does art end and silliness begin?
With apologies to those who detest art, the answer to that question, for the purposes of the subsequent discussion, is in the dead-serious hands of the good people of various government officials in Vermont, many of whom think that "Vermontasaurus" should be dismantled.
Let's back up a bit. Meet Brian Boland. He's a pilot who puts his piloting skills to good use by running an airfield near the town of Post Mills, Vt. He's also really good with his hands, as evidenced both by his previous forays into building that turned into hot-air balloons and by his latest creation, a giant wooden sculpture that happens to bear a passing resemblance to a creature that has been extinct for many millions of years.
Not too long ago, Boland got fed up with a pile of wood scarps, got together a good band of volunteers, got them kitted up with the tools needed to create a lasting work of art, and guided them through the construction of a 122-foot-long dinosaur made entirely of wood planks. (It's also 25 feet tall.)
It's obvious that the word "makeshift" accurately describes this thing. Sticking out from all angles are parts of bunk beds, guitars, and other odd-shaped panels of wood. The sculpture has already attracted attention from passers-by, attention that will only grow.
This is by no means a structure, yet the officials of a nearby village told Boland that he needed to pay them $272 to buy a structural permit and the brilliant minds on the state Natural Resources Board have released a preliminary finding that Boland might yet have to pay another $150 for yet another permit because he has somehow altered … something. He has already bowed to one demand and shored up the framework of the work, so that it doesn't suddenly fall over and crush whoever is standing underneath. (Again, this was never intended to be a slide or merry-go-round or any other sort of plaything. People are meant to keep their distance.)
What this man has really done is create an artwork out of scrap bits of wood. He doesn't intend to live in it. He doesn't intend to rent it out. He doesn't intend to open it as a theme park for children to play on, in, under, or around. Frankly, he doesn't intend to do much of anything now that the thing is built.
A former teacher, Boland knows his audience. He has said that his intent was to build something that the children and adults in the small community (population 349 as of 2010) could call their own, could gather around as a bit of fun or communal spirit. And the good people of Post Mills and the other surrounding towns that make up the village of Thetford can certainly do that, as long as Boland doesn't go bankrupt in the process.
It's obvious that this endeavor wasn't undertaken with the intent of creating a lasting landmark, to put Post Mills on the map. It was a bit of fun, a bit of working together, a bit of shared vision, a bit of handyman and handyman coming together in these troubled economic times and creating something of which they could be (at least sort of) proud. Such shared efforts should not be taxed, which is, in effect, what these permits will do if they are approved. Rather than pay that tax, the head artist, Boland, will surely tear "Vermontasaurus" down. And that would be a crying shame.
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