Marfa, Texas. A Dangling Vermont Sandwich. A Request for Colorado.
A moment of escape velocity for yours truly
Oh, oh deep water, black and cold like the night
I stand with arms wide open, I've run a twisted mile
I'm a stranger in the eyes of the maker
What a track. Thank you Willie (and Daniel.)
Through some weird quirk in the space/time continuum, last weekend I found myself in Marfa, Texas for the first time ever. It was a quick stop, non-exhaustive by any stretch but I was there long enough to catch a vibe and I am here to proclaim that vibe- weird. And wonderful. I’m sold.
As you can imagine, an internationally celebrated art community formed on the bones of an old railroad water stop is steeped in politics, drama and controversy. (A fantastic primer can be found in this Texas Monthly feature from last year.) There’s a lot more scholarship and breathless coverage of this town them clicks away but the shortest possible version: art came to struggling Marfa (pop. 2,000) through minimalist superstar Donald Judd in the 70’s and then town got mega-fancy in the late 90’s via Houston lawyer/developer Tim Crowley. Beyonce took a photo too which apparently blew some shit up.
I was born in West Texas and spent the first 18 years of my life in North Texas so perhaps I’m not the most unbiased narrator. That said, there is magic stuff in the air here. After driving for 3 hours from El Paso, I stumbled into crumbling adobe buildings, $75 prix fixe dinners, mezcal old fashioneds, graffiti bombed walls, the infamous Marfa Mystery Lights– every one of my storytelling nodules began humming at 10,000 Hz. I had a bomb fancy meal at Cochineal (W/W:9/9), ogled the textiles and hand spun mugs at Garza Marfa (W/W:7/9), drank a solid cup of coffee in courtyard of Do Your Thing (W/W:8/8) but mostly spent my time walking and winding my way through this insane mishmash of hipster and history, birth and rebirth, curiosity, creativity and humor. Marfa is an indelible manifestation of imagination and re-invention. She got me right in the feelings.
I’ll come back for you, Marfans. WW Hall Of Fame material.
I knew I would forget one of my favorite Vermont sandwiches from last week’s roundup and I definitely did. Sorry “Bagel With Lox on Montreal Spice,” it won’t happen again. Montreal-style, wood fired and all that jazz. I know it’s no St-Viateur or Fairmount Bagel but until the border opens (2 1/2 more weeks!) this will more than suffice.
My band has a little show this weekend here in Colorado and I was hoping to have an entire newsletter dedicated to all things WW in my favorite rectangular state. I started writing and figured out very quickly that, even though I’ve been to Denver a ton, I rarely get more than a day here and don’t really have a feel for all the weirdo and bizarro corners. So now that I’m here and exploring for a spell I would LOOOOVE your ideas. If you’re reading these here words (BOOF) you probably get the frequency I’m floating on. Maybe help your dudebro out and drop a WW thing or two in the comments below? I’d love it. And next week I’ll hopefully fill you all in on my adventures and that’s how we build a city. We built this city!
I put a button right there for you and everything.
Ok y’all, a couple of exciting days of rehearsals ahead and then the biggest show of our lives. Wish us luck. Hope to see you at Red Rocks or on the livestream or in your inbox next week or maybe we can high five at a fort-turned-world-class-art-museum in the sprawling desert of West Texas someday… love you, thank you for reading…