This last week was crazy! It’s kind of ridiculous that I don’t have an pictures. I got my camera all ready to go and then accidentally left it at home. However!, I do have this apology and the hope that my writing skills will be adequate… hm… we’ll see.
Speaking of seeing, I suppose that’s what this whole week was about. Seeing, and maybe feeling. The first thing I can remember worth mentioning is what would have to be the best July fourth I can remember! Me, Jim, Allie, Les, Christine, Ben Kraus and Whitney and her sisters all went to the fireworks at Randolph. The clouds had been ominous and threatening throughout the day, but being the risk-takers that we are, we decided to go ahead and see if God would hold back the rain for the fireworks. Well, he didn’t, however, Jim, Whit, Les, and I had a spectacular time playing in the perfectly precipitous rain! There were hopping contests, sock ring-outs, wet wallets and more! Before everyone headed home we spent some time hanging out le chalk house and Jim and I hung out at christines after we took some folks back over there… All in all it was a magical experience.
Speaking of experience, my lack of experience would have to been one of the many themes that ran through two-thirds of this weekend’s excitement. Prior to this weekend, I had no experience with camping. Me, Jim, Andy, Sarah Schmidt, Chelsea Grist and Emily Harms spent a little more than half of Friday driving to a place called Marfa, Texas. Marfa is a tiny town in west Texas way past Del Rio. At first glance, marfa seems to be somewhat of a ghost town only with illuminated OPEN signs rather than the dusty and deceitful ones that most ghost towns carry. Any traveler could easily mistake marfa to be just another town and pass through without a second thought. That is unless, the traveler goes on purpose.
Marfa is small town, similar to the one your grandparents live in. Wait, no. Marfa is smaller. But the point is, what seems to be a “left in the fifties” rural area is actually a rural area that because of it’s unassuming exterior serves as a quiet, peaceful sanctuary of art.
Now - or Here - no. hang on… - Ok, This sentence is where you probably expect me to go on about the wonderful exhibits we saw, the depth of artistic work that so unexpectedly came from a place so seemingly disconnected from mainstream society. But that’s not what happened. we arrived on a weekend. The art exhibits are open on weekdays, and there was no special occasion like a festival or anything like that to open them up for the weekend. Instead there was a gas station, a bookstore, and a pizza and lime-ade place.
Really good LIME-ADE
The bookstore was amazing… don’t get me wrong. The modern aesthetics of the inside contrasted comfortably, yeah,warmly with the old, dry, desert-like surroundings. There was even a small art exhibit inside. But that was all. There were No Museums, No Paint, No Brushes, No Things.
Looking back on it, our group should have felt a little melancholic, maybe depressed, yeah that’s it. Depressed. After all, we had driven 8 hours, and for what?! We came for art and found half an exhibit! Still there was something that kept our spirits up. Some Art I had rarely seen glimpses of before. There was something about Jimmy, about Andy, about Sarah, Chelsea, and Emily. There was something within that place and something without it.
