The Spider & The Colossi

I drove out to West Virginia this morning to photograph a private collection of giant fiber glass statues for a small segment in USA Today's travel magazine's upcoming feature on roadside Americana. George Farnham has been collecting these things for the past 8 years. He's collected 6 of these 20+ foot relics from 70s-80s era advertising and theme parks and many more smaller oddities (including a Simpsons roller coaster). His yard has been given the name "The Land of the Giants" or "The Farnham Colossi." Unfortunately, it was raining when I got there so I didn't get a chance to photograph them. I did get to talk to George though. He was an older man with spindly, shoulder length white hair. His home was unsurprisingly cluttered with odds and ends from all places and decades. Yellowed and tattered issues of Life magazine from the 60s. Trinkets from old carnivals and fairs. Rusted bird cages.


Shot with my Galaxy Nexus
As we stood under a tin awning of the small barn at the end of his gravel drive, George told me about how he began his collection when his wife bought him a classic Midas muffler man 8 years ago. About how West Virginia's nonexistent zoning laws allow him the freedom to erect anything he wants on his property. And how acquiring these statues has recently become much more expensive because his close friend that was a trucker and used to facilitate their shipment recently passed away. The rain fell lightly with a metallic tinging overhead. I looked around at the cobwebbed and dusty boxes of farm equipment and salvaged metal around us. Just outside the shelter were the remains of faded, multicolored sheet metal airplanes from a children's amusement park ride he'd been meaning to rebuild. In the corner of the roof, a large spiderweb draped downward from the wooden rafters. As I watched, a wasp fluttered haphazardly in the rain and into the web. It struggled against the adhesive silk. A quarter sized spider with a bulbous, spherical abdomen skittered down from the shadows to survey its catch, but stopped a few inches away. It observed the frantic wasp as if unsure of whether or not to attempt to subdue it. After a few moments, it retreated back into the shadows. The wasp freed itself and flew away. I looked back to George as he continued his rambling explanation of why he actually advocates for zoning in WV and noticed a small spider had woven a web in his hair.