Over the holidays, I took a trip (aptly called GRRRLHOOOD) to Big Bend and Marfa with three of my very good friends, Jennifer, Mala and Clare. We were inspired by two things, 1. This playlist and 2. Boyhood the movie. I took travel notes along the way. I’ll post each day in its own separate post.
Day 2. Woke up at 8:30. We found Marfa Burrito, a tiny little burrito place with dosa-sized burritos. We cobbled together enough cash for two - egg and chorizo, and el Primo. Two girls sitting next to us made it their immediate business to give us all the suggestions about where to go and what we had to do. One of them asked me if I knew Professor Bump, since I said I was an English major. She was going to take his Animal Humanities class.
We drove up to the Chinati Foundation around 10. The tour took us through six installations, including 100 aluminum boxes that reflected and played with the light; a replication of a dilapidated and abandoned period in Russian history; six light tubes that looked liked this: ////; two tons of copper; a horseshoe made for a horse named Louie; typewritten structural poems.
After the tour, we drove to a rock store. It had closed early, but the owner opened again when he saw us peeking around. He had every type of rock in there, and I wonder if it isn't the most fulfilling thing ever - to simply collect rocks. I bet you it is.
We stopped by a bar called Padre's, where it was immediately apparent that we weren't locals. The game was on. I don't know which game that is.
We ordered and sat in the corner, away. A man wobbled over and drunkenly asked if we were from Austin. Well, the way he put it was, "Let me guess: Austin?" We asked, "How did you know?" He said, "Everyone who comes through is from Austin."
He also gave us three pieces of wisdom about Marfa: "Everyone is here because they're not out there." "We're surrounded by two square feet of reality," and "Marfa is a drinking town with an art problem." We laughed politely.
A second drink, this time a gin and tonic. It was cold in the bar. Clare and I talked about proper romance novels. It'd be fun to write erotica, I think. My pen name would be Catherine Celeste Stalingrad or something like that.
Drove to The Pizza Foundation for pizza, but it was closed indefinitely. Instead we went to the Get-Go, a bodega-type convenience store. They didn't have any prepared foods other than Amy's burritos, so I grabbed an avocado, cheese, salami and a sweet potato. And crackers to make do.
We reconvened back at the hotel and lay our spread out, like we'd been hunting or something. Thank goodness for the avocado. You find that in times of hunger, avocado is the most wonderful, gourmet thing in the world.
Drinking more bourbon and lemon-chili-basil concoction and munching on my microwaved sweet potato. The salami was good, the avocado was better. Chocolate morsels everywhere.
At some point, we decided to go see the Marfa lights. I think they have to do with aliens or ghosts or some other X-files-appropriate lore. It was very cold, even with the leggings, jeans, and four layers of coats I had on. We didn't see anything, although we strained in the night sky and took swigs of the bourbon we brought with us in a water bottle. We called it hot tea to avoid arousing suspicion-- something only 24 year olds would do, I think.
More and more I think we are adult children when we are together, and I love that about us.