I’ve been in Marfa for 10 days now, and I am starting to feel adjusted – not quite “at home”, but not like a tourist either.
I’m getting used to the (MUCH) slower pace. I no longer think of time as going by as if in dog years, which each day seeming like I have endless hours to fill.
I’m starting to recognize and meet people, which is really nice. I’ll see a guy at the bar who I noticed in the Pueblo supermarket (hard to miss – I think of him as the Marlboro Man – tall, lanky, cowboy hat, Wranglers, huge belt buckle, big mustache, leathered skin, cowboy boots – the whole deal). I’ll run into a woman on the street who I’d met a day before at her store.
And I’ve begun to be recognized, which is kind of cool. I was at a really amazing concert by a master of the Shakuhachi zen flute (if there’s an activity, I try to go!), and a woman came up to me and said, “I saw you at the Farmer’s Market – you were taking pictures of the tiny Mexican cucumbers.
I met a woman at Planet Marfa (a sort of Pueblo beer garden with fire pits and a tipi) and she said, “You go to Squeeze Marfa.” (Read about my Squeeze habit.)
Yesterday I really began to feel local when I was asked for advice by two sets of tourists. One couple in for the weekend from Austin was looking for a certain place to eat breakfast, but I steered them to Cochineal for the biscuits and gravy (see my post about them), assuring them that it wasn’t expensive for breakfast. That evening a group of bikers in full leather regalia wanted info on where to stay, and I gave them the run down on the options in town.
I really felt Marfan on Friday on a tour of “The Block” the full city block that Donald Judd bought as his home, library and personal gallery. (See photos – the 3rd and 4th pictures are other locations.) The tour guide was telling a story about seeing someone try to take her bicycle (sort of scandelous here, where it is a point of pride that no one locks their bikes), and I had actually heard that anecdote from a friend of hers the day before.
Yesterday I was telling a woman about my closet project, and mentioned that after I had rigged up my makeshift solution, I saw a post on www.MarfaList.org (the local classifieds site – great way to see what goes on in town) for a lovely antique armoire.
She: “That was mine.”
Me: “I’d also seen a post for an Ikea wardrobe.”
She: “That was me, too.”
Life in a small town!