We took the trip over Mother's Day weekend, and I was afraid it would disappoint. Not the being with my family part, of course. The "famous tiny art town in the Texas desert" part.
But it did not.
It was actually way better than I expected. So good that I'm writing a book about it. A children's book. Yeah. I've got an illustrator lined up and everything. And I wrote it on the drive back to San Antonio. That's why it took me so long to do this post. I wasn't sure I had anything to say about the place that I wasn't already saying in some form or another in the book. But I couldn't resist having some Marfa pictures to scroll through on here. So I'll keep you posted on the children's book project. Until then, here are a bunch of pictures.
My spirit landscape. Iconic desertry.
My daughter searching for the entrance to the Ballroom Marfa museum. She was determined to prove to me that it really would be a real, elegant dance hall inside.
My son inside Ballroom Marfa
Pic my oldest son took at of the work at Marfa Contemporary
Another pic by my oldest son at Marfa Contemporary
Ah, the Marfa lights. The whole family sat under the stars in our truck bed out at the viewing area and watched the jumping dots, speculating with other onlookers as to what could be causing them; then we sat some more at my son's request to see if any spaceships would fly by.
At Donald Judd's famous cement cube structures out at the Chinati Foundation. Son's not impressed. And I literally only just now noticed my husband creeping behind the block.
More cube boredom. "Ugh. Why can't I dance in them, Mom?"
Dirty, filthy Prada Marfa
They remove all the vandalism but none of the spiderwebs and dead bugs
Breastfeeding my son at the art installation that had been on the top of my "to see" list for nearly ten years.
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