The last night on the Midway slowed down to a trickle, with cloudy skies, the threat of storms, and a vendors looking for last chance customers. Brian, of St. Paul, played the rollerball game again and again, hoping to add to his cache of winnings for his waiting child – or his inner child. He was in the middle of his last try when the ferris wheel lights went dark; the understood sign to all employees that the Midway is closed. The music stopped, there was a silent beat – and then I heard engines starting up somewhere behind me in the dark. I had been warned to stay alert and out of the way, as the huge trailer trucks began squeezing into the spaces between concessions and rides. On went the hard hats and the safety shirts, as the staff who had already worked a long day shifted into high gear and worked through the early morning hours, their demolition ironically lit by the pulsating, still-breathing lights of their own rides. Boxes full of customer tickets were rushed to the back of the Midway for redemption:the ferris wheel medallion was removed. The workers moved fast; at least one ride needed to be ready for the opening of a Fair in Oklahoma in two days.
Bittersweet, I sighed, as I watched two tired workers steal a moment and dig into the sugar of the quintessential Fair cookie jar.
Three very nice things happened yesterday. I got a call from the Minnesota State Fair Fine Arts Exhibit telling me that someone (thank you, dear someone) purchased my “Pinky Toes” piece; my Nuns photos was in the Mpls Star Tribune viewer photos (thanks, Eileen Schiebe Chanen for alerting me to submit), and a Midway Fair worker gave me a stuffed Stewie as a thanks for taking his photo and emailing it to him (which I would have done anyway.) He then wished me a great year. I held my Stewie on the bus ride home like he was the best gift ever. And I noticed every other adult was doing the same with their stuffies. :)
Jazzmine and James, both of Dallas, Texas, were surrounded by blue and white bulbs. Hundreds of them. More than Jazzmine and I could count. She was on task, and I couldn’t do the math. It was two days before the opening of the Fair, and they were in sync repeating the tedious job of setting up “The Beetle Bobs” on the Kidway. Over and over they unpacked and gently set into place the “sweeps” – the long beams that light up the spokes of the ride.
Each sweep – and there are 17 of them – needed to have every light inspected, and there are 16 lights on each sweep. Often the internal circuitry in the light needed to be replaced, which required an eternity of patience and fine finger dexterity. “It’s mostly water that makes them go bad,” said James.
Neither James nor Jazzmen spoke much. They just keep moving onto the next sweep, and the next bulb. They had already hung all the overhead lights. Again, I wanted to know how many bulbs were on the Beetle Bob? They didn’t know. Perhaps it was too discouraging to know. I swore I would never curse a single blown lightbulb in my house again.
James was all about getting this ride set up and had a rhythm going loading the sweeps; I felt like I was interrupting to ask for their emails so I could send them photos. Jazzmine gave me hers right away; James seemed to ignore my request and kept working, which I took to mean he didn’t have an email account. Then, uncharacteristically, he stopped loading the sweeps and disappeared for a bit. He returned with a torn piece of corrugated cardboard on which he had written his email: JEW3333 and a host account.
Because I’m Jewish, and this man was of very dark skin color which usually does not mean Jewish, at least in this country, I had to ask the man of few words: “Why JEW – in all caps?”
“Those are my initials.”
I laughed; gave him my card so he could see this story; watched as he put the card in his mouth (the same storage space he uses for lightbulbs); and let James and Jazzmine continue loading the sweeps and fixing the bulbs on the Beetle Bobs – because soon enough they’d be working with an even larger number of small things.
Let’s spend a moment in our happy place.
Available as a print on archival metallic paper, so you can be happy all year ’round.
When I first saw William, I thought he had been hit by a truck.
He was being smart, the kind of smart that comes from years of Midway experience. He and his co-workers knew to rest in the shade of the trucks until the ‘boss comes and we can set this ride up. It’ll be up in about 2 hours,” he said with pride. William is originally from 1900 family acres in Montana, but now lives in Waxahachie, TX, a town that both of us had trouble spelling so we settled on Dallas/Ft. Worth. He left Montana when the government closed the oil rights on their property.
I asked William how he lost the top half of his fingers on his right hand, assuming it was a work-related injury from his years of hands-on labor. “I was born this way. But it hasn’t stopped me.” He then proceeded to list all the jobs he could do, from driving the big rigs to fixing the small bulbs. Those hands were still working when I returned to the Midway hours later at dusk. The ride that was supposed to take two hours to set up had to have all the seats removed and some key parts replaced. “Being extra safe,” said William.
I promised William I’d bring prints of him later in the week. “I’ll be working the bumper cars on the Kidway,” he said with the same pride he had for all ‘his’ rides. He asked how much the prints were. Nothing; my thanks to him. His thanks to me? I got a free ride on the kiddie bumper cars.
That’s my kind of ride, the kind that gives me thrills: that great circle of energy where we give what we can – and what we love – to give.
And on the circuit that is William from Waxahachie’s life the next stop is home, The Dallas State Fair. There, at the grand finale of the midway worker’s season, he’ll work from dawn to midnight for close to 4 weeks.
“I wouldn’t still be doing it if I didn’t enjoy it.”
Like moths to a flame; fireflies in the hot summer nightscape: the iconic Skyflyer holds us spellbound, once again.
Available on metal or metallic paper.
Not only did the 4H kids clean up in award ribbons, but their exhausted exuberism cleaned up messy barns and loaded trailers full of gear and animals. There was a lot of waiting until their truck arrived, and I was most amused to see how they amused themselves.
Meet the clean up crew from St. Clair High School, who for the past 16 years has cleaned the sheep show ring as a school fundraiser. The dust was flying, as the tradition continued.
Finally the family truck arrived, and it was time to load the goats, as well form the the tack assembly line.
And then the next group for the middle 4 days of the Fair started to arrive, and the cycle of push-pull-lift-carry started all over again.
Which followed her everywhere. Off lead. No leash. Says Chisago County High School senior Jane, “The week before the Fair, she didn’t listen to me at all. I think, once at the Fair, “Pepper” bonded with me as her Mother. She’s only 6 months.”
Pepper would occasionally get distracted, but Jane soon coaxed her onto the right path. Jane, who also shows dogs, says she wasn’t quite as pleased with how she did in “Sheep Showmanship” compared to her other competitions, and says she has more to learn. In my humble opinion: Her sheep walks without a leash – that’s plenty impressive for me!
Day 2 of the 2016 Minnesota State Fair was decreed Unite In Purple day to honor Prince, our native son. The Fair was packed with record setting attendance; a large portion of the solid sea of people wore purple. We actively shared in the communal loss, for, as social activist Sandra said, “I’m here because for me, his death was devastating, to put it mildly.” We danced freely with friends and sang loudly with strangers, turning shock and sorrow into a party that felt like it may never end.
And we have a Fair!
The night before opening day is always so sweet and quiet: the calm before the crowds. The Midway owners turn the ride lights on, as if to acknowledge that set up is done, and here she is in all her glory. Game on! We’re ready for you!
Totally walking his talk, or the side of his truck’s talk, as he and his partner carried an endless number of 5-hour Energy displays bottles. He told me they’re not heavy. Only about 100 pounds.
How many men does it take to place an umbrella and two garbage cans?
I’m not mocking; I’ve never built a Fair.
Just an observer here……but it was amusing to see these guys work it out among themselves.
The tent wasn’t up yet, and the guys were hanging.
Serena looked like the one in charge. At one point it looked like she was going to lift the tent herself.
Soon I realized it took a crew of 12 to lift the tent. Serena was beaming when it was up. “This game is my baby. My sister’s aunt groomed me for it.” Check out the Buoy Pitch, but mostly, check out Serena. She’s the anchor of it all.
Hope, of Indiana, had it under control as she calmly instructed her crew to change out the Wisconsin State Fair sign for the Minnesota State Fair sign. “The less you have to remember, the better you are.” I asked how long it takes to set up their basketball game. She laughed: “If you have two weeks, it takes two weeks….”
It’s two days before the Fair, and she never broke a sweat.
I’m proud to have been accepted once again into the largest juried Fine Arts Exhibit in the great cultural state of Minnesota, The Minnesota State Fair Fine Arts Exhibit.
And I salute all my fellow artists who entered, and either got accepted, or didn’t. We’ve all been there. Some years in; some not.
There were over 1,000 photography entries this year, culled down to about 90.
I am honored. Thank you, Judge and Professor of the Arts, Michelle Westmark Wingard.
I hope you will bring your own narrative – and feelings – to this image
before you read the back story that follows.
From my vantage point, it is my wish that we all find our dance, our joy, our play in the spirit of this youngster on a rainy day at Cozy Point Ranch horse camp in Snowmass, Colorado.
Riding was cancelled due to the rain, and almost everyone was somber and disappointed – with the exception of this zesty little rider who skipped across the soaked grounds.
There’s always mud to play in.
I can’t remember the last time I played in the mud. But I will always find delight in those that do.
How lucky am I to find movement, forms, textures, color, light – and most importantly, life – right in front of my eyes.
We took a trip to the purple lit bridge late last night. The roads were very dark, and very empty. It was raining. Again. I wasn’t sure exactly where to go, trying to recall where I went to pay respects when this same I-35 bridge collapsed. Back then this was all blocked off, due to tragedy and destruction. But now there was an opening. We dipped down a small road, lower, narrower, darker. We discovered the spot, as suddenly the breadth of the bridge revealed its underside. It is a stunning structure. And a moving tribute from the Twin Cities that loves Prince so much that thousands of municipal, corporate, and privately owned light bulbs were changed to purple within hours.
We weren’t alone in this oozy urban underbelly. A photographer and his tripod stayed a long time. A kneeling woman with a smart phone camera took a few shots then left. Little by little my eyes found lone subjects paying tribute, bearing witness.
A small constant stream of cars, one or two at a time, would pull up, people would get out quietly and look up at the giant purple structure, take a photo, then drive away. And another would come. Here, at 11:30 PM on a Sunday night, there was a slow and steady pilgrimage to see how we honor Prince.
I am always moved when people gather in community. The ties that bind grabbed and pulled and gripped at my heart strings. It was hard to leave.
It poured here again this morning. And again, we are still sad. Sometimes I don’t think it’s ever going to stop reigning purple.
Work you have seen, new work you haven’t seen; come enjoy the views and let me thank YOU!
George Roberts, owner of the Homewood Studios helped hang my show today, and to my surprise, he started with Fisher, my maiden name. I was never content to use it as a maiden name: I retain it as part of my full last name. Fisher is the name that saw me through my mind-like-a-sponge years, when math teachers told me it had to be this way, art teachers told me I could do it any way I wanted, and parents helped me believe that ‘as long as you’re happy’ was a worthy goal to strive for.
Still, seeing my name so large is embarrassing; it makes me feel like I’m supposed to be bigger than I am.
And, somewhere in the middle of signing 55 prints, I started to wonder who the heck I think I am.
But silently and secretly, I enjoyed seeing Fisher in the spot light, if only for a few minutes until “Goldstein” grabbed all the attention.
It was like seeing my name in the school choir program again. It is me; it is my family; my history and my rooting. It is the grounding that allowed this tree to grow big, wide, bold.
Thanks, Mom and Dad. I grew up happy. And this sign’s for you.
But I’ll be darned if I know where you can find them.
So here they are again.
Me and WordPress, not the closest of friends. Guess I just have to get back on that horse once gain….
I came to Anderson Ranch Arts Workshops to study with one of my prime visual influencers, documentary photographer and changer of the world Ed Kashi, and visual media pioneer James Estrin, founder of the New York Times Lens blog. What I got, most unexpectedly, was an opportunity to face my middle-age fears of jumping back on the horse that threw me off in my youth – and, yes, I intend that as a metaphor for all my age-accumulated reluctances, or in horse-speak, ‘shying away.’
When I told the little kids at Cozy Point Horse Ranch that I was afraid of horses because they are so big, they told me: “You want your horse to be big so your feet don’t touch the ground.”
And on and on the quips from the kids came…I could barely write fast enough. Nor run, frame, focus with enough speed as I doggedly trotted after them while they all-out galloped when their horse appeared.
It was a grand week of photography drenched in the Colorado sun and rain, with exuberant young riders, challenging classmates, and inspiring mentors.
For now, just a taste of the week.
For later, the full photoessay, with narrative.
Thanks, kids. You pushed me. I intended to document your story. Instead I ended up discovering mine.
Another year has flown by.
How did I use it? Whom did I impact? What did I share?
Did I dare to soar? Did I loosen my grip?
I wish for you time spent with those you love, doing what you love, giving and receiving love.
I wish for you abundance, grace, and gratitude, as we fly on this ride of ever-changing times.
I wish for us a sharing and a caring of our talents and our gifts, with each other, and our planet.
Let us spread our arms wide, sensing, feeling, embracing time as it rushes by.
Time; you say goodbye – but I say hello!
Wishing you a joyful New Year.
A shadow here; a shimmer of light there. A child’s delight, running through the darkness, leaving traces of laughter echoing from house to house. Little glimpses of color across the street; dark figures racing through a pool of light. Bite size bits of the evening, this “fun” size sampler.
The lowered light; the slowing of movement; the storage of supplies; the beauty of transition. Right in front of our eyes.
God bless the divine spirit who decided that before the long dark winter, we’d be gifted with outrageous colors.
Who can remember a more vibrant and exhilarating Fall?
How to capture it, hold onto it, savor it a little bit longer?
Nature went above and beyond this year. Crossed the line. Way outside the box.
I hope everyone stood under a yellow tree and basked in the vibration of gold.
When it rains, we cover our kids; cover our cookies; cover our prizes; cover ourselves; take cover – and check the map for the next stop.
Then we go out again and make a big splash.
A child’s joy is truly timeless.
Compliments of The Wellenflug. Translation:Wave Swinger.
History of this international amusement park Grande Dame: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wellenflug_(Fahrgeschäft)
Once again, spinning out of control at the Minnesota State Fair with www.BeyondTheStick.com.
As interpreted by Parker, almost 18 months.
Turning back time.
So (MN) Nice when another publication picks up a story on me and my Fair photography! Thank you Twin Cities Daily Planet and Minnesota Women’s Press , and Jeremy Iggers, founder of the TWIN CITIES MEDIA ALLIANCE for the continued support and publication over the years. I am honored.
I spied this sweet “Bovine and Brotherly Love” scene with Kayla,19, and Danny,12, of Washington County. Kids, colors, cows – and bib overalls – are all super-sized at the Minnesota State Fair.
These are the adventures of the Starship….
I don’t care how you sugar coat it; if you put it on a stick; or if you dress it up all pastel pretty in the Butterfly Exhibit shop; I will not eat a bug.
(Although those from Southern California will remember the used car salesman Cal Worthington who promised, “I’ll eat a bug if you find a better deal.” He lived to 92.)
Feeling young at heart?
Ready to throw a few down?
Drink too much and you’ll end up on the ‘drying out’ rack.
Those of you who have followed my Fair photos know that I’ve spent a crazy amount of time admiring and photographing the construction and completion of the Crazy Mouse ride. This year is no different; the obsession remains, this year with a feline-like focus on the quickly changing shapes and patterns.
It’s always (MN) nice when the Minnesota State Fair uses a photo of mine. This, from their Facebook page. And, once again, big thanks to the Minnesota Women’s Press for featuring my photo “I’m All Butter Fingers,” along with an article about my State Fair Photography. And this is just the start of going Beyond The Stick at The 2014 Minnesota State Fair!
There’s strength in numbers. Join me and safely swing kettle bells under the powerful direction of Sharon Nelson, who has opened her new studio with her equally strong daughter, Marie. Thanks to them, I got down low and aimed high to provide photography for their web site and marketing. Try a free class:www.totalbodypowermn.com
Here in Minnesota, we’re holding onto winter — as if it were good to the last drop.
Tonight in Minnesota it’s -37 with the windchill.
And then there’s Florida.
We want to let our friends in and out of the Great Pyrenees community know that today, Sunday, we will lovingly set our Manny Bear free to cross the Rainbow Bridge to end his pain from rapidly progressing osteosarcoma, diagnosed two weeks ago. He just turned nine. Please help us surround his soul in love for his next journey. Our hearts are breaking. Thank you big guy, for choosing us to be your flock.
Kudos to the kind hearts of The Assistance League of Minneapolis and St. Paul for providing food for the school kids and their families, and clothes for the kids at school. It was an honor to photograph these ‘life as it happens’ moments – especially when the moments are so full of live. And love.
Learn more. Do more. msp.assistanceleague.org
Thanks to Art Director Kristin Maija Peterson, Grand Ciel Design, for bringing me in on these action-packed events. www.GrandCiel.com
Am I blue? Yes, and I’m sure you are, too, with the advent of the ‘razing’ (a strong word, as reported in various media, for a feeble village and its tender-hearted fans) of old, funky Heritage Square, starting ‘immediately after the end of the Fair.’ The shopkeepers agree that it is needed; their pioneer storefronts are being held up with tape and tar paper. They are, by and large, optimistic about the new and improved Heritage Square, although they don’t know where they will be located, or even if they are coming back. For now, they remain in the dark, as they close their shops to make way for the bulldozers.
Thank you, Heritage Square, for offering up years of photos rich with character, and characters. Like big-hearted, tiny Tammy, the maintenance woman who took such pride in ‘her’ sliver of a mustard-yellow bathroom in Heritage Square, welcoming everyone with a radio blasting country music, cooling fans, a door sign that said: “Tammy’s Place”, a hug for me – and a paper towel handed to you.
We are looking forward to more of Tammy, and that spirit of Heritage Square, but better.
And I’m sure you saw even more of the same. Or different. The point is, there’s more.
To say the least.
Ella, 8, shows us us to grab life with all you’ve got.
How many lightbulbs does it take to draw in customers?
Showmen Supplies knows, as operator Jeff points to the Midway under construction: “We’re a rolling warehouse to keep all of that running.” Started 17 years ago by two brothers in a carnival-roving station wagon, Showmen’s, “We Light The World’s Brightest Midways” is now the giant semi full of bulbs, generators, boxes, cables and every replacement part a loud Midway could need, quietly tucked behind the scenes.
We’ve got another a-Fair to remember.
Meet you there!
The Fair Is.
New blog, old news: Homer Simpson, Stewie Griffin, Jeff Passolt, and me on Fox 9 News in 2011. And me with Belinda Jenson on KARE-11 in 2009; with Diana Pierce on KARE-11 in 2011; and with Roshini Rajkumar on WCCO Radio in 2013. The Fair still looks the same; the hosts still look the same.
Me, not so much. Except for the shirt.
Thanks again to the folks at Fox 9 News, KARE-11, and WCCO Radio for going Beyond The Stick over the years.
And the best selling photo print at the Great Pyrenees National Dog Show is “In Hind Sight”! Thanks to all lovers of the rear and dear.
I have the good fortune to have wonderful media coverage during the Minnesota State Fair the past few years. Thanks to KARE-11 for my interview with Diana Pierce; more good humor on KARE-ll with Belinda Jensen; a fine time with Jeff Passolt on Fox-9 News; a fun segment with WCCO Radio’s Roshini Rashkjumar; a salute from MinnPost in choosing www.BeyondTheStick.com as a ‘website of the day’; and a nod from Rick Kupchella’s “Bring Me The News.”
More thanks to Secrets of The City for my past annual photo columns; The Twin Cities Daily Planet for a generous photo spread; Patch.com for a photo assignment to cover opening day for five local Patch publications, as well as a cover story on l’il ole me; plus publication in the esteemed Women’s Press, Access Minnesota, and The Utne Reader.
With thanks to the Ramsey County Library System, and with funding from The Clean Water, Land and Legacy Amendment, 35 of my Minnesota State Fair images were projected in the stunning library atrium of the newly remodeled Roseville Library.
The exhibit, Beyond The Stick:the Iconic, the Ironic, the Peculiar, and the Poignant/Images From The Minnesota State Fair, ran for two months.
Thank you to the Ramsey County Library System for engaging in new relationships with artists.
Hope everyone’s creativity is thriving on big walls!