Jackson County Fair Week: Squidhead
Squidhead – Jackson, Michigan
It’s county fair week here in Jackson.
Get your corn dog, head down to the midway, shop the cattle and livestock, and check your gut at the Tilt-a-Whirl.
A smaller, much more manageable version of the behemoth Art Fest during the summer, Ann Arbor’s Artoberfest had us downtown on a lovely October afternoon, exploring Corktown and grabbing some prints from local (sometimes snoozing) artists.
It was my first time walking around downtown Ann Arbor since last year’s holiday season, and I had a chance to do some street work with the Canon M6 and trusty EF-M 22mm f/2.
And unlike the giant summer Art Fair, this festival had top-tier art worth checking out. Spending money on area artists’ work feels good – an easy way to freshen up our decor at home and shop locally.
Living in Michigan, no matter where you are in the state, you’re never more than an hour or two away from one of the Great Lakes.
Our proximity to these bodies of water inspires so many of our summer family vacations. This year, we went north to the Traverse City and Leelanau Peninsula region. We love our Door County, Wisconsin vacations so much that we wanted a similar experience this summer. With its apple and cherry orchards, numerous lakes, and varied landscape, the peninsula provided everything we look for in a holiday.
Despite the rain, we had a great vacation – a great mix of playing outdoors, relaxing by the lake, and exploring M-22 and the Sleeping Bear Dunes.
A funny thing happened at the world-renowned dunes: we visited during a particularly foggy day, where all of Lake Michigan was enshrouded in a heavy vapor. From the top of the dunes, you couldn’t see the lake at all.
We all looked on in amazement. It’s like we were staring at the edge of creation – down the dunes, you would fall off the end of the world.
Luckily, further north along the dunes, we did find a place to sit on the beach and swim in Lake Michigan.
Our state is fairly average in almost every way – except the scenery. If this is the edge of the world, we’re happy to be here.
We couldn’t wait any longer.
In March, we planned on remodeling our bedroom. And boy, did it need it: wood paneling, dark, drop ceiling. In all fairness to the previous owners, it used to be a back porch. Then it became a bedroom, but that was decades ago. Now it’s our turn to make it right.
Why not start now? We need something lighter and sunnier in our lives right now. Sure, it means we have to sleep in our breezeway for the time being. It means contractors in the house, with their noise and drywall dust. But we’re considering this project our early Christmas present.
Everything is harder these days. My photography has certainly taken a hit. I feel it in my bones – a kind of creator’s guilt, ever-present. Not much blogging, not much newsletter-ing, not much of anything. With the pandemic and the post-election stress, it’s been hard to wake up in the morning, let alone take photos.
Now we have a new look to our bedroom, and with the light coming in, it felt like a good excuse to get out the camera and document the progress.
So here it is, in all it’s sheetrock glory.
Our local art and history museum has an annual summer event, the Art, Beer, & Wine Festival, which features those three things on a (usually) beautiful June day. I often wonder about participating in the festival – maybe as a way to get some of my photography out there, promote my books and projects, and meet more people around town.
But then I think about the whole art fair crowd, and what you need to do to appeal to a mass audience like that, and I wonder if my work is the kind of stuff that would be interesting. My portrait projects might be good conversation starters because they feature local creatives doing interesting things – many of whom are usually at the fair.
The cost is fairly minimal, but you do have to devote an entire day to standing out in the sun. It’s a fun event, one of the big draws on Jackson’s summertime event calendar. And there’s always the try-it-out-and-see-how-it-goes philosophy, where if it goes well, great, and if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t do it again.
The benefit would be spreading the word about my latest musicians project, as well as reminding people about my artists project. I might sell a few books, and get some subscribers to my email list. Would I make some photo prints to sell as well? If so, how many, and how much do I sell them for? Do I want a bunch of inventory sitting around after this festival is over?
When I approach a project like this, it’s best to keep a clear goal in mind.
This year, it would be to promote Musicians In Jackson, and remind people about Artists In Jackson. In conversation, I could ask for suggestions on my next project, too. Have some photos of the musicians and artists on hand to see the final products, and offer the book for purchase.
Keep it narrow. Keep it focused.
Many artists are fine with making their work and leaving it at that. For my projects, since they are about the community I live in, part of my job has to be to let people know about the work. A bit of that is personal outreach, a bit is letting the musicians and artists promote the project to people they know, a bit is local media efforts.
The festival could be a new way to get the word out: taking my photography directly to the community, in person, where I can talk about my goals and spark discussions.
The art fair-type approach to selling my photography is not appealing; I don’t think I’m that type of photographer. But if I look at the festival as a public relations tactic, I can keep the whole experience in focus with clear goals.
This kind of thing just hasn’t happened in Jackson. Not historically.
This is the (or a) birthplace of the Republican Party, after all. Once fairly progressive, now very conservative. We’re a blue collar town – a small city whose claim to fame is a prison.
So when Jackson’s LGBTQ community scheduled the city’s first pride parade, I had to be there, camera in hand. And I brought my entire family.
The parade turnout was small, but the celebration was big. Flags, costumes, fun t-shirts – it had it all.
The parade had pride.