Tale Revised Blog #4 09|21|14

       We started to walk into the old amusement park. It was raining slightly and much colder than it had been all week. I couldn't feel my fingers by this time so I wasn't doing much for my writing. We walked across the darkened, cracked pavement. There were still leaves from the following fall scattered about, swishing around in the chilly breeze. I walked up the path that led to what seemed like a ticket booth. It was faded in color and all the windows were closed. It seemed so unloved. That would've been one of the busiest places when the park was open. It would've of always been surrounded by people, excited to buy tickets so they could experience the park. On the sides of me where closed down building where they may have had games or food. It was eerie to think that at one point and time little kids would've been running around with the toys they had won or the snacks that they had gotten. The children would be holding pink, fluffy cotton candy in their hands and a studded bear in the other. They would be holding on to these items for dear life because that was what was most important to them at the moment. Their parents would be chasing them through the park and laughing at all the different antics these little ones would be doing. This place was magical for children once. The little kids would be yelling, "I want to go on this ride Mommy! Please! Please! Please!" This place used to be alive for a different generation. It used to breathe in all the activity, all the enjoyment. It survived because people loved it. And now, it seemed so lonely, so dead.
      When we had made it to Kiddyland, two maniacal, terrifying clowns were there to greet us at the entrance. Their faces were chipped and faded. The white paint that created their facade now had a yellow tint and dirt stains. All the color had been washed out. Kiddyland didn't seem welcoming anymore, it seemed guarded by these two mutants of the past. But, I continued to walk in, not sure of what I would find. I stepped in and looked about what was left. The weather was most definitely making things seem dreary, but Kiddyland didn't need to the weather for that effect. The park seemed tired. Tired of being unused and alone for so long. I look to the boat ride; it was rusted and had green and brown tinted water at the bottom. Rust crawled up the side of the box and old leaves and pennies were disintegrating at the bottom of the pool. It had a foul smell as well. Rusty boats and algae filled water was the smell of its decay. I continued to walk to find there was this classic wooden Merry-Go-Round there as well. It was absolutely stunning and in its prime would've been bright and colorful. It would've been making its rounds and playing music while children laughed and rode their horses. It would've attracted many little ones to ride. It would've been so enticing and hard to resist with all its character and design. Now, it was rotten and wood was falling from the ticket booth. The mirrors were warped in the center piece and it looked like something that would be haunted by hundreds of ghosts. I walked around it trying to take it all in. It felt so sad and alone with no children to play on it. I can't imagine how the ride would feel if it could talk. So abandoned, so destroyed. I looked acorss and noticed a roller coaster in Kiddyland. It didn't look like it could hold a small child let alone multiple children. It was cold, rusted metal. Nature was taking control again and vines and plants were starting to creep up on the tracks. The plants were hanging off and made for a beautifully, sad sight. It would have had to have been left by itself for awhile to have let nature reconquer. I realized though, all of these rides have been abandoned a long time ago. All they had now were their ghosts.
      I was trying to imagine the entire time I was walking, what these rides would've been like to children when Kiddyland and Conneaut Lake Park were in it's prime. How colorful and inviting it probably all was. The sounds of the park, little kids laughing, all the different music playing from the rides, the rhythmic sounds of rides running and working. It would've been a beautiful symphony all on its own. It is sad to think how much of that has changed. Now Conneaut Lake Park is just a shell of what it once was. Now its used once a year for a haunted house that comes around every fall and its the perfect location for it. It's really all the park could be used for now. These rides and the chipping colors of it's past belongs in the memories of some people. That's where the real Conneaut Lake Park resides now. The one that was full of life and enjoyment. The one, that had children that yearned every summer for a visit. The one that people came from all around to visit. Now, what I was seeing was simply skeleton of something that was once so alive and thriving.

Conneaut Lake and Ethnography Blog #3 09|14|14

Part I

I walked hesitantly into the dimly lit room. I had never been to a group meditation before. People had already began to sit around in a circle. I followed their patterns to a musty smelling closets where there were mats and pillows for us to take. I found an open spot in the circle and sat down. In this room there were hardwood floors and large mirrors lining the wall, which I assume when not used for meditative purposes, is some sort of dance studio.  Across from the mirrors were large windows that were partially open, allowing hot sticky air and the organic and non-organic noises from outside to enter in. You could here the crickets of the night and an occasional car or truck drive by. Other than that there were assorted whispers all around. People in the circle were making small talk and so was I at the moment with the girl sitting next to me. She told me she had never meditated before and asked me if I had. She seemed kind of nervous, so I tried to assure her that meditation is just calming your mind and body and there is no right or wrong in  how a person meditates. Across from seemed to be the leaders of the group. They were all sitting around a Tibetan singing bowl. When finally it rang out. The president of the club introduced himself and had the VP and the treasurer do the same for themselves. They all seemed very calm and even the treasurer with her bright blue hair and piercings was more zen than I  had every seen someone be. She was doing yoga positions on her mat as she was introducing herself. The president spoke again and asked us about introducing ourselves. He said to say our name, grade, and how long we have been meditating for. We went around our circle and those who have never meditated seemed so nervous. But there were also some veterans in a circle and sprinkled in, a few who meditated for religious purposes. When the circle finally had gotten to me I did a quick introduction and stated that I had started meditating 5 years ago after I converted to Buddhism. I did notice as we went through the circle that I was one of few freshman. I'm getting quite used to that now. Eventually though we reached the end of the circle, there were a couple words exchanged between the president and the VP about when meditation was, and then the lights were turned off..
The president spoke, telling the group to clear our minds and calm our bodies. You could here the rustling of people not being able to silence their bodies because of the heat and discomfort. Meditation is difficult for some people when they first start off. In a world that all go, go, go it's hard to sit there and try not to think about everything thats going on around you and the stresses of life. The president spoke again leading the group in meditation. He said that just accept the noises around you and your bodies discomfort. Acknowledge that they exist and continue to clear your mind and focus on the now.  This is not how I normally meditate which was alright. I knew what was best for me. I focus on one of my chakra points, which in this case was my third eye or Ajna. Its the chakra point that honors the physic. I needed to be reconnected with my mind. College has been a whole new world for me and my anxiety has been on a whole new level. So I simply focused on the for the remainder of the meditation period. Closer to the end of the meditation, the president began the ring the Tibetan singing bowl to try to bring people back to the now. He rang it about three times then told people that it was time to stop meditating and to take there time coming back. He slowly turned off the lights and I allowed myself to open my eyes. I noticed how many people had moved and switched positions. Some looked bored stiff, some looked like they had taken a nap. Most of them had moved out the typical, criss-cross applesauce meditative position into a more comfortable, legs extended all different directions kind-of-position. The president mentioned a few more technical notes and said if we wanted to go we could. I picked up the pillow and mat I was sitting on, folded them and put them away. By the time I had turned around half the room had cleared. Meditation can be extremely difficult for people. It takes awhile to be able to calm your mind and body. Its something you have to practice and even after meditating for 5 years, I haven't completely grasped it. It seemed as though meditation club wasn't what some of those people thought it was going to be. But for my first time meditating with others, I didn't think it was all that bad.

Part II

• cold
• gray
• dark and icy
• stuck in the past
• lonely
• silent
• some parts run down
• getting there
• picking up the pieces
• trying to rebuild 
• THE MUSEUM
• bright
• lovely
• cared for
• unique
• the work very hard for it
• community at its finest 
• life's work
• genuinely cared about its guests
• THE PARK
• abandoned 
• cold and dark
• lonely 
• scary 
• rotting 
• broken down
• beyond repair for the rides
• meeting its fate
• needs some intense TLC

It was cold and dark and really it seemed abandoned when we first got to Conneaut. As we walked I noticed that it was very much stuck in the past. It was cute and quaint in it's own way, but nothing like a modernized place. Even in Erie where I am from we have more than corner stores. It's a small town and sometimes reminded me of something from a horror movie where the town was completely abandoned. It was very different from what I am used to. Some of the houses were beautiful and even the lake was beautiful on a cold, dreary day. Some of the town was livelier than the others, but all in all it seems like there is a lot of work to do.  

 When we got to the museum there was a huge change in atmosphere. People came out, while in town the people  were all in there cars or gazing at our group from inside buildings. George seemed like someone who lived for the museum. It seemed like such a bunch of trinkets at first but when he walked around and talked to us it gave life to them. He cared so much about all the different things in this museum and this town. It created a whole new life to some place that seemed so dreary. All the workers seemed to genuinely care about this little town. They all loved it in their own ways.

When we walked around the park, the man who spoke to us at the beginning seemed so angered by what was going on. He was distraught and in someways desperate to save this piece of land and then he said why. It was a community. It was his community and even though it was in dire straights, he still wanted it to thrive. They would just have to help it thrive in a different way. The park seemed cold and abandoned inside but when we went to the hotel you could tell once again of how much these people cared. It was beautiful inside and they were trying to fix it up. The entire time I was walking through all I could think about was how I would've loved to see this in its prime. People swing dancing in the ballroom and couples laughing with one another going to their rooms. It felt like something out of an old movie. 

This town was Georges and all the other people we spoke too. Captain Jack was a wealth of knowledge and you could tell wanted all of us to know about the lake. These people loved that cold, dark, dreary, town we walked into. It created a whole new light to shine on Conneaut Lake. 

Part III

We started to walk into the old amusement park. It was raining slightly and colder than it had been all week. I couldn't feel my fingers by this time so I wasn't doing much for my writing. I decided, that I would record all of this. We walked across the darkened, cracked pavement. There were still leaves from the following fall scattered about. I recorded as we walked up the path that led to what seemed like a ticket booth. On the sides of me where closed down building where they may have had games or food. It was eery to think that at one point and time little kids would've been running around with toys they had one of snacks that they had gotten. Their parents would be chasing them through the park and laughing at all the different antics of their children. The little kids would be yelling "I want to go on this ride Mommy! Please! Please! Please!" This place used to be alive for a different generation. When we had made it to Kiddyland, to maniacal clowns were there to greet us at the entrance. I walked in not sure of what I would find. The boat ride was rusted and had green and brown tinted water at the bottom. There was this classic wooden Merry-Go-Round. It was absolutely stunning and in its prime would've been bright and colorful. It would've attracted many little ones with its music and ponies to ride. Now it was rotten and wood was falling off the ticket booth. The mirrors were warped in the center piece and it looked like something that would be haunted by hundreds of ghosts. The roller coaster in Kiddyland didn't look like it could hold a small child let alone multiple children. I was trying to imagine the entire time I was recording what these rides would've been like to children when Kiddyland and Conneaut Lake Park were in it's prime. How colorful and inviting it probably all was. Its sad to think how much of that has changed. Now Conneaut Lake Park is a shell of what it once was. Now its used for a haunted house that comes around every fall and its the perfect location for it. These rides and the chipping colors of it's past belongs in the memories of some people. Thats were Conneaut Lake Park resides now. What I was seeing was simply skeleton of something that was once alive and thriving. 

Eight Hours 09|04|14 Blog #2

This past week I got the chance to go and see the creation of art. I walked in, and despite the fact it was hot, people had started working. The artist were cool and confident about their works. It felt as though they didn't even notice you being there. The artist had 8 hours to work on their pieces of art. That takes an immense amount patience. When I painted for the first time I spent hours trying to perfect it and I always hated having to take a step back and look at. I just wanted to finish it as quickly as possible. But these true artist spent 8 hours perfecting their own unique pieces. Each of their works was part of them. Some unique, unearthed part of them was simply transformed in to a physical work and made tangible. One man took parts of his trinkets that he collected and brought them, then asked on viewers to create wrapped strings of metal with trinkets attached that meant something to them. He strung them up on the wall and created a beautiful collage almost of these wrapped metal strings that represented not only the people who made them, but himself. He allowed others to take a piece of him and create from it. That can be extremely difficult and testing. I think that it takes a lot of patience to let someone in to do that. You want to guide them and show them how it should be done, but you have to realize that everyone's brains work differently. Because like the artist all of our minds are unique.

I joined one of the art pieces that was being done. The man wanted to find characteristics of people that made them feel confident in their appearance or more feminine or masculine. So I joined and mentioned parts of me that I thought I wanted to enhance more and fix. I can be extremely self conscious of my appearance and the make up artist that was part of tried to help me by accenting the parts of me that I liked and clean up the parts of me I'm not so keen on. The make up artist did winged, cat eye, eyeliner to emphasize my green cat-like eyes. Then she contoured my face and especially my nose because I am uncomfortable with the size of my nose. Then the photographer would use the lights to emphasize the parts of you that you wanted to focus on. It was terrifying and I absolutely hated having my picture taken. Many people said that it was awesome though that I participated it. I guess in the end, it helped me realize that my eyes are something different about me and that even though I'm uncomfortable with the size of my nose, that they are both part of me. I do think it takes more than a photograph to accept yourself though.

(Top right corner)

The art show was something like I've never seen. Its amazing to see how the artists work and create. You get an idea of how their minds work. Eight hours is a long time. It takes patience and being able to immerse yourself into the work to be able to work that long and that proficiently. A lot of the time artist will start something then put it down for awhile and come back to it. But like a good book, the let themselves be dragged in and be completely immersed in to their works. It was really quite inspirational and beautiful.