Dixie Classic Fair

Working as much as I do, I have to make time to take photos and only by shear dumb luck do I get a chance to go through them and do what I call "processing".  "Processing", for me, includes flipping them, cropping if needed, and fiddling with the brightness and contrast when I feel like getting really crazy.  It doesn't take a whole lot of time to do one picture, but I rarely ever take just one picture.  Well, as my luck would have it, a few days ago, I got sick.  Now this is actually bad news, because I took time off work to go up to D.C. with my girlfriend and my camera.  That trip was canceled on account of vomit but I don't have work scheduled either.  This, dear friends, means that I have time to process. YAY!

Today, I decided to take on the Dixie Classic Fair.  In early October, I paid a man in a booth $8 for a stub of paper.  I took that stub and showed it to a man with a counter and he allowed me to pass through rotating metal bars and into a photographer's paradise.  The lights! The movement! THE COLORS! ...I get excited just thinking about it.  Laugh not at my spastic-ness. Anywho, I decided that I should share with you, my loyal reader (note: the lack of "s" on the last word is because I know of only one person that reads this. Hi Jamie!), some of the gem-colored wonders that I found at the fair.

So let me take you on my trip to the Dixie Classic Fair.  First stop is always the poultry barn.  Oh, what fun there is to be had at the poultry barn.  I was walking along, admiring all the clucks, minding my own business when a very rude hen stopped me in my tracks.  She was staring at me.  She cocked her head this-a-way and that.  I waved, attempting to break the awkwardness.  She just tutted at me and turned away.

To my surprise, it wasn't just the poultry that was rude.  I went onto the swine den where I came across a rather obnoxious pig, and not the human kind either.  Granted, the only polite, soft spoken pigs I have known were Babe and Wilber.  This one, however, seemed particularly bent upon making my visit to his pen as unenjoyable as possible.

 

 After that display, I decided to be done with the animal world and move on... to PRODUCE!  I know what you're thinking... but you're wrong.  There is lots to photograph at the produce hut.  a lot of colors and repetition.  Why Katchooki (that's my camera's name) practically drools over it.  I drool too, but more for the thoughts of tasty treats like apples with caramel, snap peas and sweet carrots. MmmMMMmmm!

 

Unfortunately, everything I wanted to eat had a ribbon on it, so I figured it would be best if I wiped the saliva off of my chin and moved on.  I went in search of something to munch upon because my appetite had been roused.  The problem was that everything I could purchase for consumption was a rather unhealthy shade of tan and sat sunning under a lamp in hopes of growing even more tan.

Not only was it tan, but the people who made the food stood in blindingly lit glass boxes and showed me exactly how it was made and laughed merrily as the grease poured off it.

I was no longer hungry, I can assure you and no amount of powdered sugar could change my mind.  I thought perhaps I could try the rides for amusement instead of the culinary delicacies that the Dixie Classic Fair had to offer.  At first, I thought I'd try the Farris Wheel.  It had safe metal baskets to ride in of bright rainbow colors, and I like rainbows.  No doing, though, because as I sat and looked at it, it went from looking all sweet and innocent like this:

to this:

which, to be perfectly honest, made me a bit queasy.  So, I said "No gracias, Don Wheel.  I shall meet with you some other time.  Adeu."  And went along my jaunty way to find something else.  Then I came upon something called "The Zipper".  I figured that something named after apparel could be fun, right?  No.  There are no nice baskets.  There are cages.  No. Ma'am.

As I looked around, all the rides turned into a nightmare.  Everything was a blur.

Suddenly the Ferris Wheel was looking much safer.  However, I still was not convinced.

So I decided to mosey on over to the kids rides.  Perhaps they would yield better results, but they all seemed to be taken over my giant beasts and insects.

This caterpillar nearly ate me, I swear to you.  I promptly ran away because at this point, I was cold and hungry and figured it was time to go home.

I hope you enjoyed the Dixie Classic Fair as much as I did.  Tune in later for more brightly colored adventures.

All photography copyrighted to Ruby Sting Photography

Firstly

Sooo..... blogging.  This is apparently what it's all about now.  Blogging has surpassed the hokey-pokey and love, it seems.  So what is a budding, young photographer to do? Why, blog of course!

This is the beginning of something good. I can feel it in my toes. Of course, that feeling could actually be frost bite setting in.  We have no heat, and as the nights here are threatening to drop below the freezing mark, I have found that my feet now have toe-sickles attached to them. Que triste, really.

I suppose that the first blog on a new blog-site should tell you a little bit about the writer, eh? Well, I have never really been one for talking about myself, but I'll give it my best shot.

My Life: a Short Synopsis

I was born and raised in a small picturesque town in Northeastern Wisconsin. I grew up loving the water and God (in that order. A child can capture the idea of water much quicker than that of God.) Anyway, I grew up in the Moravian Church. No, it's not a cult. In school, I developed a love for the arts, which I was lucky enough to be nurtured in by my mother.

Copyright to Ruby Sting Photography

I came out as a lesbian when I was a freshman in high school (that went over like a lead balloon.) My senior year of high school was spent in Thailand through the Rotary Youth Exchange Program. That was an amazing experience. That was where I first learned how to use a manual camera and play the guitar (among other things).

Copyright to Ruby Sting Photography

I spent my first two years of higher education at Cottey College in Nevada, Mo. ("Say it with me! nuh-VAY-duh!") I didn't really know what I wanted to do yet, so I took all the classes that struck my interest.  It was there that I took my one and only photography class.  It was film and darkroom based.  This is a dying art form, I'm sad to say. I was class prexy (ducks and daisies forever!), in theater... blah, blah, blah. Anywho, I managed to get my A.A. and my A.S. in my short time there.

Copyright to Ruby Sting Photography

*Note: I didn't take this picture, but it is of me.

I then moved on to Salem College, where, after long and hard consideration, I received my B.A. in Studio Arts with a concentration in oil painting.  To be perfectly honest, I hate oil painting, but it was the only way for me to get out of school in the two years I had money left to pay for.  It was either that or biology, and as much as I enjoy genetics (which is a lot, I might add), I like spending time in the studio much more than the lab.

 

Copyright to Ruby Sting Photography

I now own and operate my own photography business (and hold two minimum wage jobs as well). I would really love to be able to live off of the money I make with my photography, but right now, my niche is dependent upon that fact that I am cheap. *shrug* Such is life.  I do mostly freelance work for Salem Academy and College. Being a recent graduate from there, I have an in. *wink* Some of my shots are already being used, but most will be in next year's literature.

Here's an example of one of my shots that they've used several times.

Copyright to Salem Academy and College

Pretty neat, eh? Two fold spread in the Viewbook.

Anywho, more photo fun and witty banter later.