The shittier life gets and the more apocalyptic the surrounding world becomes the more I desperately need whimsy and the Sparkle barn… well, it was exactly what I needed! This place was so nonsically colorful it just fed my soul.
It had been on my bucket list for a few months but to be honest I had no idea what to expect. It was really just the title that was sparking my infinite curiosity.
We visited the Sparkle Barn on our second day in Vermont. It was our first stop and quite a hike into the middle of nowhere but you know, Vermont’s like that. It’s the state that hides a lot of treasures behind a mischievous smile.
Driving up it didn’t look like too much from the outside although there was a broken down bus in the parking lot with a beach ball in its window painted to look like a giant eyeball. Trippy. I like the fact someone else besides me was personifying cars. By now the issues at home that had been dogging my companion the day before had come to a head and he was now having a bit of a meltdown yelling into the phone. I gave him some space by wandering into the yard of this odd place.
There seemed to be a garden of sorts out front but it was unlike any garden I’d ever seen. For one the flowers were all made of brightly colored metal. They reminded me a bit of Alice in Wonderland. Beyond them was a bench in the shape of a unicorn you could sit on and so many other sparkly metal decorations both dancing in the wind and tacked up to the barn’s wall. I was fucking loving this and I hadn’t even stepped inside yet!
Inside was even sparklier. The entryway was surrounded by stained glass windows and the inside was a darling little gift shop with fancy notebooks and diaries and whatnot, a light smattering of nerdcore (like some Edgar Allen Poe dolls!) It was all very cute. Unfortunately, my companion was still coming down from his traumatic phone call and was more than a little distracted. That is until we walked into a room that seemed at complete odds with the over the top color of the rest of this place. It was a room with a wall mural of ravens. There was a big Gothic chair and candles and witchy items for sale in case anyone needed a bundle of sage or a piece of Edgar Allen Poe or Edward Gorey memorabilia. Honestly, I haven’t done enough with those two as both had lived in New England at some point in their lives. And I adore both of their work.
However the biggest treat of this place was upstairs which was so immersing that it shocked both of us into experiencing the moment. The second floor of the barn was an “interactive art display.” And when I tell you EVERY last inch of wall, ceiling, and floor of this place was covered in brightly colored fabrics and enormous fake flowers I mean it. It was literally like walking into Alice in Wonderland. The photos just don’t do it justice. Vines and flowers dangled from above and seemed to sprout from the plush super thick shag carpet as well. Child size chairs and tables in the form of flower petals and toadstools sat in two rows so you could sit or watch the children scamper through this felted garden. This tickled every cell of my inner child. SO MUCH WHIMSY. I was so stupidly happy in this moment. This was a goddamn treasure for all ages. I wished more places like this existed. We both left in a much better mood than we arrived in.
This was possibly the most bizarre destination I have ever ended up at. It’d been suggested by several people, and of course the Internet, but no one had much to say about it, just that I needed to go. On this particular occasion I ended up with quite a carload, my mother, a cousin, and my great-aunt. We had five hours to waste so I suggested we go to 
First off let me tell you the area it’s in is picturesque Maine seaside, absolutely beautiful, and there’s so many things to get happily distracted by including a series of high end galleries. Then there’s Nellie’s which… is so far from that scene it might as well be its own planet. When I drove in my mother didn’t want to get out of the car, “This looks scary!” She yelled, pointing at a heap of rusted metal lying haplessly in the woods. I made her get out. I always do. Besides everyone else was already bounding out.
Here, instead of the cute little jam shop I expected there was an entire Wild West village, run by an army of fronteirsfolk who happened to be made of scrap metal, recycled miscellany, and clay. They were both fascinating and terrifying, somewhere between sweet whimsy and an apocalyptic hellscape. And there was everything… a general store, a saloon, living quarters, a jail. Oh, we had fun in the jail, burbling to a couple who’d apparently made this a destination whenever they got bored. Very sweet people. I thought it was just a little mock village but this thing kept going and going and going. By the end I found myself out in the woods staring at a dead knight being loomed over by a dragon, a plywood castle half completed in the background. The Wild West town was more Whimsical but by the time I got to the knights and the dead Viking, being sent off in a half decayed boat, everyone was getting lightly unnerved. In fact the creatures drawing the wagons and carts had gone from quirky to “Soooo…. that last tab of acid is what did it, huh?” Clearly this artist had as many voices in his head as I do (which I can truly appreciate!)
I love places that encourage the desire to play in everyone from small children to the elderly. It just really brightens my day, but this isn’t even mentioning the jams! They really do have jams! And jellies! Preserves! And chutneys! All of which are free to sample at the little shop on crackers, or if you’d like to pay for a scone there’s a sweet little cafe sitting area to enjoy. Of course I sampled everything and 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
After being laid up for two days with a migraine I was just about crawling out of my skin this morning, desperate to go somewhere, anywhere. I’m still in central Maine with my mother and she’s still none too keen on going for a hike in 85 degree weather soooo I offered to bring her to a museum, which I figured had to be climate controlled. Usually I drive but since we were so close anyway, and she does need practice driving, I climbed into the passenger seat and off we went.
It was an uneventful drive until we were almost there. Then the GPS insisted we had to go down Rangeley Road to get there. Only problem was the road was closed due to construction. So I took the GPS down, zoomed out, and found an alternate route through the college campus. It was, after all, a museum on the college campus. And wow. I don’t want to sound critical but all I ever knew of Central Maine was poverty and a lack of education, so to stumble upon such a crazy expansive campus here, nestled in such a well kept little town…. well I was shocked. This was not the Maine I grew up with. I must have fallen through the Twilight Zone again.
The museum has a range of art and utilitarian items from the native peoples of both North and South America, everyone from the Inuits of Canada all the way down to the Mayan and Aztec Empires. It was actually quite impressive! Funerary dolls, textiles, baskets, and a series of interactive displays for children that my mother kept herself entertained with (as she forgot her reading glasses at home and couldn’t read any of the plaques anyway.) They even had a bunch of South American dress up clothing and a wee wigwam. OK, even I went inside that one… Because when else do you get to play a wigwam? All and all it was a lovely little trip and was happily surprised. If you’re in the area and into museums its well worth a look!
When I drove up the parking lot was HUGE and pretty empty. I got out of the car, took a quick snap of their glorious wonky polar bears standing above the park’s sign. Oh, this was the kind of roadside kitsch that I live for. Still, the building was very nice, had a HUGE gift shop filled with all sorts of shiny, sparkly, and fluffy things, and the staff there were super sweet. I paid $20 for a ticket and an extra dollar for a little bag of corn to feed the ducks and deer. Who knew a place like this had ducks and deer!
Sure enough as I walk in there’s a line of little aviaries, each housing 2-3 pheasants, and a deer pasture filled with Fallow Deer. Aside them some ducks swam in some murky water. There was a group of Asian tourists already there playing with the deer so I put my corn in my pocket and headed towards the caves, promising myself I’d stop to dole out my treats before leaving.
That’s when things started to get just a smidge strange. Suddenly I found myself overlooking a spiderweb of wooden pathways and stairs climbing up and down in every direction. It was like a real life M C Escher sketch. Total chaos. I had no idea where to go or why. As it turns out it didn’t matter. The vast web in the middle was just some sort of trap for small children. Eventually if you walked to the other side you’d come across the entrance to the “caves.” Mind you, when I thought of the word cave I thought this would be a cavern underground, maybe with a few slimy stalactites and stalagmites. You know… like most cave tours in the US… Instead “cave” in this instance seemed to be a very loose term to describe the various hollows and holes that formed under a giant pile of granite rubble. Some of them had little metal stair cases to get down into and since I am here I might as well go down to see them! That may not have been the brightest idea. I’m 5′ 8″ and maybe 140 or 150 pounds and had a hell of a time not bumping my head and squeezing through. I noticed all the other people here (maybe 10 or 15 in all) were content to watch me be the only foolish one to try. But dammit, I paid my $20, I was going to see it all!
I read online, “bring a jacket because those caves are cold!” Seeing as caves generally are cold I did wear an over shirt, but between the humid heat above ground and the strange physical positions I was putting myself in, I was soon sweating bullets. I mean just soaking wet. Totally drenched. In seconds. Welp, that didn’t go as planned. I used the over shirt to sop up the excess sweat and moved on.
It didn’t take me long to go through the whole park. There’s a few things there that weren’t open yet – a “maple house” (I’d call it a sugar shack) a rock climbing wall, and some precipice you could “gently repel down.” All and all I think this would have been a great place to go if I were seven or so… I don’t honestly suggest anyone my age or childless should go check it out… although that being said I did have a ton of fun feeding the ducks when I got out of the caves. I really miss owning ducks. They’re such funny little creatures. I moved on from them to feed the deer who were basically rabid for corn. WOW. I got covered in soooo much deer drool. And isn’t that what life is all about? I still had fun!
