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Last summer I attended seven regional fairs in New England. Passing through the gates of the first fair since I was a kid, I was surprised at how vividly I remembered the fairs of my youth and I found myself smitten all over again.

I found that then and now, fairs are a complicated balance of startling innocence and huckster sleaze. Everything is for sale; from whirlpool baths to religious salvation. The human sideshows of the past have been replaced with the more acceptable freakishly sized livestock—see the tallest horse, the largest bull, the fattest pig in the world—you’ll be thrilled and amazed—just one dollar gets you in!

Most of the fairs that I attended are over one hundred years old and may last for another hundred. As the number of independent American farmers decreases, I wonder about the future of farm animals and farm life. Will organizations like the Future Farmers of America and 4H continue to educate, nourish and interest tomorrow's students in an agricultural career? Will the future of these summer fairs rely on a continuing shift away from agriculture to entertainment ....mostly food, specifically fried food; fried Oreos, fried cheesecake “We’ll fry anything” one sign read.

But for now, all of this and more, exist in harmony against a backdrop of gleeful screams, bells and whistles and the aroma of fried dough mixed with the pungent essence of livestock and exotic poultry.

I shoot 120mm black and white film, using plastic “toy” cameras, I scan the negatives and print on Hahnemühle Photo Rag with Epson K3 Ultrachrome ink.