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I've always held a large infatuation with carnivals, and for a time, it seemed that many of the choices I made in life took a carnival-adjacent turn or flavor. I liked the Americana of it. Grifters and rubes, three balls for a dollar. Machinery so old and worn down, repainted so the next town wouldn't know the Devastator used to be the Riptide that killed that boy last Summer. Bootleg KISS and Mötley Crüe merch, Michael Jordan flying through the sky on a mirror in a paper frame, and the real-deal-i-swear-to-god Elvis Presley counting crumpled ones and fives in the RV, with an ill-tempered dog or two chained outside for color. That's just plain art.
I've always held a large infatuation with carnivals, and for a time, it seemed that many of the choices I made in life took a carnival-adjacent turn or flavor. I liked the Americana of it. Grifters and rubes, three balls for a dollar. Machinery so old and worn down, repainted so the next town wouldn't know the Devastator used to be the Riptide that killed that boy last Summer. Bootleg KISS and Mötley Crüe merch, Michael Jordan flying through the sky on a mirror in a paper frame, and the real-deal-i-swear-to-god Elvis Presley counting crumpled ones and fives in the RV, with an ill-tempered dog or two chained outside for color. That's just plain art.