The day after that trip to Olean, I got to another, for me, first time festival, the Art in the Park at Stephens Lake in Columbia. I'm usually 6 miles above some ocean, trapped in a miserable plane, returning from a Study Abroad trip, but this year, the first weekend in June didn't start on the 1st. So. High culture, here I come.
And that's already unfair, saying here high culture. Of course, there are differences between Olean and Columbia, but to simply contrast would be pointless, unfolded--that is, like the early stages of writing a poem, there's just the raw material, not folded for content or sound, not yet full of any of those resonances that work on levels we don't quite expect. So a simple contrast, nah. It will take at least a 3rd event, and probably several, before there's any point.
Yet, the structure of one community event still invites, perhaps suggests, a way to see. Here in Columbia, old 63 blocked off for pedestrians, at the point where cars could be steered into the parking lot of Boone Hospital, with a friendly cop politely waving cars and people this way and that.
And this is distinctly not the land of 'carry around your can of Busch Light on a hot day.' Nope. Instead, there's the sustainable option, cold drinks for free--if you bring your own cup or bottle. (No margaritas, though, and I'd left in my Jeep the sad little squished water bottle that I'd bought at the Chicago airport on the way out, and filled up at every airport to and from Rome and Sicily. Alas.)
And there may be funnel cakes here, but this is not the land of deep fried...
What with the bright and trendy food trucks,
Or the purity-guaranteed brats...
Even the hamburgers are PC and sustainable... (can you read that "Missouri Heritage Beef" on the sign? For some reason, the Paint program wouldn't let me crop and refocus the photo. Lots of links to this topic, but can't for sure find this specific farm; I've eaten their burgers on the MU campus at some of the food events on Lowry Mall. Huh.)
Along with what must be an insider thing, this soda pop stand with something about re-using or having your own cup. I didn't.
And local favorites showed up, here from Glenn's Cafe (which had a swell 15-minute film menu during True/False. Pricey, but a great bowl of gumbo, back in cold March)...
There are different people than show up in the Ozark foothills...
though I left out the 9-year-old kid wearing a Minecraft shirt. And here an altogether a different scene...
But of course, this is an art show, so no exposed nor deep-fried testicles. Rather, waves of art. All sorts of art...
Bill's Retro Robots, STL, Bill McKenny
Lisa Becker, St. Charles, MO
Hmm...Not sure whose this is...
Steve Frank, STL and Endangered Species Mandala, by ___________
(well, I don't know who--but I really liked this piece)
Interesting metals...
And nearby...(My niece instantly wanting the big bug. No, she's not 10.)
Another tent offered peace cranes, which keep coming up as I roam and imagine...
One of my favorite exhibits had these, wood shapes with those glittering streaks. I talked to the artist, who told me this is her own thing--she powders turquoise and blends with an epoxy paste, using that to fill crevices. Cool.
Ah, then finally the place where I was determined to spend a bit of money, no just for the dubious joy of spending, but both to extend the festival toward all those folks who didn't come along, but also to "invest" in a community event. Even though this lady isn't from Columbia, it matters that her being at Art in the Park seems worthwhile to her. Anyway...I bring my niece necklaces and rings and what-not, so these anklets seemed a good variation. All sorts of interesting stones, hand-beading, all that. However, texting back and forth, that 'shopping at a distance,' she said she just doesn't wear anklets. Huh. But by then I'd talked enough with Ms. Fields, the maker, so I circled round, and we decided that Ros, a friend in Decatur, needs one of these--though we have no idea whether she'd wear an anklet or not.
More fun, in talking with the designer, we agreed that people are too much on their cell phones (of course, here I was, shopping by phone-pic and text), and we talked about her upcoming cruise to Jamaica, and her not letting her kids "miss" the cruise by being lost in screen-gaze. And I admired the wooden foot manikins, which she says a friend brings her from Croatia. Fun stuff.
Oh, well. Credit-charged, on her tablet-reader, all packed, and away.
Near the park entrance, a booth from one of my local favorite stories, the unlikely Boone Olive Oil Company (I spend so much time trying to get friends to just go in and taste, free, free taste their products, but mostly I get strange looks, or insincere promises). I re-tasted a little cup of Persian Lime oil and what--Black Currant balsamic?
And the last. These wire and moss-stuffed creations. Would we call these some variation of topiary? Made by Wilson's Garden Center. They order the forms, but they said spend a long time getting the material poked in and everything growing. Ashton is ready for sea serpents in her high-class, Rochester, Minnesota front yard: "We have to have that in our yard. Mike is not pleased." Mike, her husband, a lawyer from Wisconsin, I suggested the moose might make him happier. Of the sea serpent: "and it will be in our lawn shortly...When Mike is convinced that it is awesome."
(I'll be needing an oversized sea serpent to guard the fields of my future extreme home...)
Back to parking, past the cop that I commiserated with ("your buddies need to bring you something cold and slushy," thinking frozen margarita, but hey, we're not in Olean), back to my death-by-asphyxiation-Jeep. Here's what Ros got:
(don't tell her yet)
later, bob
