At the Fair (Part 1)

It is late October. The skies were pure blue and the wind was blowing cool and sweet out my window Saturday morning. I could see it. I could tell. I should have thrown open my window and let that invigorating air into my bedroom. To me, it meant just one thing. I HAD to go to the Fair.
I remember so vividly my visits to the big State Fair in Columbia years ago. It’s one of those events I never went to when I was young. Only later as an adult. I missed out on a lot. But I have found that one is never too old to enjoy the Fair.

I went by myself. I took my camera and notepad. I was going to pretend I was a newspaper reporter writing a feature story like I did on so many countless occasions in the past, only I would not be interviewing people, and the resulting story you are reading here would not be published in any newspaper.

I felt the old excitement as I parked my car in a vast parking lot at the fairgrounds and made my way to the fun and rides, exhibits, and food booths. Ah, the smells and sounds that assailed my senses as soon as I walked in the gate! Polish sausage, fried dough, French fries, fried mushrooms, pizza, gyros — every imaginable kind of greasy fried delight the palate could ask for.

But before getting something to eat, I toured the exhibit halls where the amateur and professional photography and art work was displayed. Being a photographer myself, this was really the main reason for going. I wasn’t planning on going on any rides.

I wandered through two long halls filled with dozens of photographs, mostly of scenes, people, and creatures in our Lowcountry area of South Carolina: Charleston houses, marsh, ocean sunsets, gardens, butterflies, and gorgeous pictures of herons, ibises, and egrets. There were travel pictures of upstate waterfalls, tropical beaches, faraway places. Only a few photographs really caught my attention, and those because I have studied and looked at others’ photography for so many years that interesting stuff literally pops out at me. I like to think I have prepared my eye for what is visually interesting and creative. As always, at these Fair exhibits the offerings ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. In one, a toddler is seen coming out from underneath a large American flag in a grassy backyard, a look of heroic innocence on her face. The picuture is titled: “A New Generation Emerges.” I almost thought I heard soaring music in the background.

Photographers and artists have always liked to do self-portraits. One series by a young man caught my eye. These pictures stood out. I liked the faraway, deep-in-thought expression on his face in the photo titled, “Confined in Thought.” The others: “Self Portrait Dwelling in Fetal Position,” and “Self-Portrait Trapped and Lost.” Seeking self-knowledge in the infinite depths of the camera. Oh, yes. Why, when I was young….

The best beach picture, probably taken by the child’s mother, was of a boy bending down to pick up shells at low tide. He is in silhouette, and the sunlight glistens and sparkles on the water.

I continue my tour of the photography. In the background, Neil Diamond’s “They Come to America — Today,” gets the blood flowing. I see another black and white picture of a small child in a rocking chair with an elfish grin and a woolen cap, looking off at a raised angle. A happy and joyful expression. Another photograph of a stunning white ibis titled “Silent Lucidity.” I kind of like that title. Finally, a scene after my own heart. It could have been a late afternoon at Folly Beach. Low waves and quiet surf, sun breaking through clouds creating a silver sheen on the water. Otherworldly. That is the way the beach often seems to me.

(Continued)