My friend Sam made a velociraptor. A real big one. Like, three metres tall and a thousand billion metres long. From plywood. He cut it with a laser. This is so many kinds of awesome to my grown up self, it is unspeakable the level of awesome my child self fells about it all.
The piece was part of an exhibition/collaboration of painfully hip fashion types and artists and creating people, and was a beacon of playfulness shining brightly in an ocean of cool and shimmer. The velociraptor was awesomeness in relief.
I'm pretty sure Sam wanted to create something that was visually and spatially striking, provided we were struck to remember the joy of discovery and the excitement and wonder of childhood. Or he just likes velociraptors heaps.
And you know what - even if his only motivation for spending 60+ hours cutting and sanding and slotting together a three metre tall plywood velociraptor is his irrational love of wooden dinosaur toys, I still love it. As an object and as bona fide art. Because altogether too often art gets self important and terminally earnest, and everyone forgets how fundamentally awesome velociraptors are.
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