A State Fair sketch
By Linda Wing
It’s an ephemeral art, and even the woman who hands out prizes uses words like “crazy” (in a nice way) when she forks over goodies and fan mail, checkmarks each kook who trickles in to pick up their baby, the evidence of a peculiar winter spent shopping for the perfect tiny seeds and pushing them around with a toothpick.
The people who learned to knit instead are in a different building, a block down from the people who learned to paint.
This tribe is different, just on the edge of feral, working endlessly on art that isn’t capitalized . . . .
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