There are few things that bring up both fear and joy the same way as travelling carnivals do. On the one hand you catch the lights of one of these adhoc amusement parks and you can smell the excitement of youth (which oddly enough smells a lot like funnel cakes and cotton candy). The nostalgia of paper tickets, barkers, baseballs hitting over milkbottles, and screams of kids as they risk life and limb on those creaky machines of death.
Yes, the sketchy, rusty, not sure if that is supposed to be that jerky, was that a bolt that just fell out rides are some of the most amazing feats of lawsuits waiting to happen, and yet, somehow we just let it go. Maybe it’s a test of manhood, to survive the carnival ride. Maybe it makes it scary, more enjoyable to know it’s actually not very safe. But hey, we live for adventure right!?
I remember being at the 1989 Indiana State Fair (don’t ask) and thinking, “really? You want me to go on that? Pass.” But what happens to these great metal monsters when someone finally does retire them. When the risk finally surpasses the reward. Where do they go to die. What pasture do they spend the rest of their lives in before they corrode to a pile of forgotten dust? This is your assignement. I want you people to seek out these ghosts, and not only seek them out, but reincarnate them into photos, sculptures, jewlery, any form of ART. This is your assignment people with talent! Tell the stories of these giants!
