Vermont is packed with roadside folk art. Wherever you drive in the Green Mountains, you pass sometimes odd, sometimes beautiful art in people's yards. Well, I've been riding my bike recently past a few of them and thought I'd post some photos of them.
The first one is on Portal Road in Middlesex. I'm not sure if this one is art or Yankee thrift but it still catches my eye every time I pedal by. It's a cool use of an old rural electrical pole.
The other ones are on the side of the barn at Sparrow Farm in East Montpelier. I spoke to the farmer about them and he said the one of the horses was originally done in the 1950's and they had it touched up at one point. Both lower corners of the painting have broken off over the years and while the lower left-hand corner was reattached, they simply cut the right-hand side of the painting off to deal with the break.
The painting of the Scottish Highland cows was done more recently by a local lady on the road who was raising them on her farm at the time. The lady happen to walk by while I was chatting with the farmer and he razed her about having the cows mooning everybody driving by. It was kind of funny.
I just like the idea of having art pieces outside and accessible where people can experience them and have them as part of their daily lives.
While I was up on the top of North Street, I took advantage of the clear day to snap a few shots of the hills, Camel's Hump and the view of Montpelier as you descend back down into the town along North Street.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Folk Art
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4 comments:
great post...I love that kind of stuff.
You are up to riding up North Street? I thought I was the only one crazy enough to do that!
Actually, I ride up Gould Hill Rd. & Sparrow Farm Rd. and come down North St. It's a little less steep coming up that way but, on the other hand, you have to deal with the dirt road.
I don't do that ride every day though. Only about twice a week. The other days, I just come down Elm St. back into town.
When I was in Rissia I saw Soviet period statues standing in private home gardens. That was looking a bit weird like ghosts of the past. I wound not like to have Lenin or a pioneer-boy with a bugle as my neighbours.
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