Since 2002, I have been investigating conventions. I have photographed everything from the bizarre, such as the “Player’s Ball’ for pimps and prostitutes, to the decidedly dull, the Korean American Dry-cleaners Association Convention.
I am awestruck by convention goers. Here subjects mirror Abe Lincoln at the Abe Lincoln lookalike convention. They hear the cry of hucksters and hustlers and adorn themselves with ostentatious outfits of $20,000 mink coats and gold-encrusted chalices at the Pimp and Prostitutes "Players Ball." People speak to me with stuffed animal puppets at the Fur Fest for people who like to dress as stuffed animals. I breathe heavily in this life.
Because Conventions are pulsating living time frames of eccentric individuals who are living out their fantasies dreams and aspirations. They are for the most part undocumented. It is a microcosm of American society. It is an event where individuals come not only to exhibit and sell products- from sex to funeral headstones- but to exhibit themselves. They are places with their own set of underground yet manufactured rules and regulations costuming and language.
It is an alternative to the daily process of living.