The Horse With No Name

This sculpture was inspired by the local festival to celebrate a historical event called “The St. Albans Raid.” In 1864, this was the northernmost land action of the American Civil War. It was a controversial raid from Canada by Confederate soldiers meant to rob banks in retaliation for the Union Army burning Southern cities and to force the Union Army to divert troops to defend their northern border.

The emotion and energy in this sculpture represents that kind of passion that erupts just before major social change lurches into being.

The sculpture was made with bits and pieces of metal collected when a local business – The Foundry Machine Shop – went out of business after more than 100 years; marking the passing of the Industrial Revolution as a major social driver. Now of course, the Information Age charges powerfully into the future with all of us on it’s back… another reference to the meaning of this sculpture. The first inspiration for this peace was when I picked up the two huge sprockets that make the horse’s front hooves and the large, round disc harrows that make its hips, and then everything in between emerged.

 To learn more and see better pictures click here.



This sculpture started when I was in the eighth  grade,  when I made and donated the cow bike rack in front of the library.  Two different people who stopped by while I was installing the cow sculpture mentioned that my NEXT piece should be a sculpture to double as a town message board – replacing the awkward and often misfortune plagued sandwich board that had been out in the yard in front of the town hall.

I envision this sculpture as a representation of the three essential elements in the history of Fairfield.  Approaching the sign coming from St. Albans, I designed a little homage to Fairfield’s dairy farming history. Approaching the sign coming from East Fairfield, there is an homage to our world-class Sugaring industry.

If you park in the town office parking lot, you will see the third side, where you will find my “Toil and Talent Turkey.” The turkey is made almost 100% tools from tools or scrap metal that represents well over 100 different kinds of back breaking and skilled work. When you pause to think of the variety of labor and expertise that it takes to build and strengthen a community over 250 years, it is mind boggling.  I have to thank my mother for being a “Wandering Junk Yard Scavenger” for the last 20 years, as most of those bits and pieces came from her precious collection of old tools and special scrap metal finds.

To learn more and see better pictures click here.


 Bike Rack

The Cow Bike Rack was my eleventh piece, completed on June 8th 2012, – one week before I graduated from the 8th grade.  This was my most complex work to-date, at the time,  because of the need for the cows to be painted.  (My normal “junkyard metal” medium would have been dangerous and dirty for cyclists to brush up against.)  It was also complex because I had to build it in my studio, de-construct it, and then re-construct it at the site.

First, I photographed some local cows. Then I used a projector  to trace the forms on some 6 by 6 sheets of eighth inch steel.  I had to use my plasma cutter to carefully cut out the silhouettes:  I had one chance to get it right!  Preparing the metal for painting – grind off the sharp edges, polishing and priming – took a long time.  Finally, I painted.  The fabrication to that point took about 35 hours.

You might notice that the ground the cows are on is very uneven, yet the sculpture follows the contours so no one will trip and it can be mowed around easily. The final installation on the sight  took about 6 hours in total.

To learn more and see better pictures click here.


Triceratops Family

The Triceratops Family was my second work. There are four babies and a mother. I made them in the fall of 2010 when I was starting the 8th grade with some help from my mother to fine tune my use of torches and other equipment. The funny thing about this sculpture is that the bodies of the animals are all made of the metal head and foot boards from tiny beds. When we found these in a junkyard, the owner told us that these beds came from an old mental institution in central Vermont. You can see that the baby dinosaurs have very small head and foot boards and the mother’s body was from a slightly larger bed… Maybe the matron’s bed who might have supervised the ward. I think it’s interesting to speculate about what these beds would say if they could speak their secrets.

To learn more and see better pictures click here.


Fern the Dinosaur

This was my first “official” piece – public or otherwise. In 2010, my mom decided to teach me how to weld because she was inspired to tackle this dinosaur project and needed an extra pair of hands. My older sister had just had knee surgery, so I got the assignment!  We took on the task over a 4th of July weekend in 97 degree weather, on my birthday! What a gift!  My mother did the body of the dinosaur, but she gave me complete freedom to design and build the neck and head – by myself! The day started off a little dicey, when I cut into a metal piece containing oil under pressure, and I was engulfed in a flash fire ball. Amazingly, there was no harm done, so, a little shaken, I pushed on.  The stegosaurus is currently in the front yard at my parent’s dental office in St. Albans, Vermont. People in town seem to love this addition to our community’s unique charming character.

To learn more and see better pictures click here.