As it was getting toward evening Saturday night, Chelsea and I decided to take a walk around Marfa. This was the point in our trip where we talked a lot about life and where we see the future, faith, God and family. As we rounded a corner we saw this small stone church and Chelsea asked if we could go up to it. She was satisfied that her suspicion was true, it was in fact an Episcopal church. Chelsea was raised Episcopal and is in a period of spiritual exploration as she tries to land in her adult church. Anyway, no one was around so we tried the door. It was open. Despite Chelsea's concern that we might be tripping some sort of silent alarm, we went inside. The sanctuary was still and empty inside and seats maybe 100. It's pretty small. I told Chels that this is the kind of place I want to get married because I wouldn't be overwhelmed with the number of available seats for guests. The church windows were colorfully illustrated biblical scenes. We walked around for a few quiet moment before letting ourselves out and continuing on.
"Henkey is Marfa" (Big Bend trip)
When I was in Marfa, there happened to be a film festival so there were all kinds of unique individuals running around. In the center of town there was a small art bizarre capitalizing on the out-of-town tourism that was booming in their town for the weekend.
As I told Chelsea, I was really interested in getting a piece of art to commemorate out trip to Big Bend. At the bizarre, there was a young blonde woman that had a booth set up where she was selling shirts that she was drawing original art on for $25. Next to her table was a night stand (smaller table) with stacks of her art on it. I'm not sure if she had any intention of selling this art. But it was there, so I asked.
I was particularly interested in the pink man you can see in the above picture. Below his face, it reads, "the most beautiful man in the world." I really wanted to get it for Todd and Nick to add to their collection. I also wanted something for myself, but couldn't figure out just what I wanted. So, Chels and I asked Megan to put aside the Most Beautiful Man so that I could come back later and purchase it.
When we returned later that evening, the booth was empty. So I grabbed the most beautiful man and wandered around wearing my best concerned face. I found a woman in a top hat that seemed to know what was going on and explained that the artist was gone and she'd never given me a price for the Most Beautiful Man.
The top hat woman led me over to couches by the booth where Megan and a young man were cuddled together in a "dream-like state." Megan told us what she wished to charge and helped me pick out the painting that I would buy for myself.
Then, checking out, the top hat woman looked at my Most Beautiful Man picture and said, "I can't believe that you're buying this."
"Why?"
"This is a picture of Henkey. Henkey is Marfa."
I'd met this guy earlier. He was the one Megan was lying with out the couch with. I smiled.
"Henkey is a tortured artist," she went on. "And he used to dress in drag. Then Megan moved to town and they fell in love."
Oh, I get it. So this wasn't just any Most Beautiful Man. This is a portrait Megan drew of the man she loves, an adoration of his whole self. So cool. So Marfa.
Dancing at The Post in Marathon, Texas
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPJTbjyEz84&w=560&h=315] Friday morning, Chelsea and I were told that we needed to go to The Post in Marathon to meet all of the "strapping young cowboys" by our guide director at Far Flung.
Saturday evening, late-late by my standards, Chelsea and I left Marfa and headed out toward Marathon. We hadn't eaten yet because we were waiting on the famous grilled cheese in Marfa. When we got around to checking out the Grilled Cheese Parlor, however, we found out that the wait would be around 30 minutes to get a sandwich and they only took cash or check.
So, we did what every good American would do and we went to Dairy Queen. I tell you what, the chicken fingers were hot off the fryer even five minutes before they closed. And if you get the chance, check out the S'mores Blizzard, it's the bomb.
It would have taken us around 40 minutes to get to The Post, but it turns out it's not on any published map (do as the locals do and ask). So we burned some time driving around and getting lost. Finally, we stopped by The Gage Hotel and I ran in to ask. I was surprised to find that our waitress Meghan, from a few nights before was working the bar. She gave me directions and told me that "everyone in town will be there."
Her directions were as follows: "Take a right at the railroad tracks and drive for about two miles." Um, make that 10-15 miles in the middle of nowhere with no lights. The only reason that Chelsea and I kept trucking was that we get being passed by cars going in the opposite direction. That seemed hopeful.
Finally we arrived. Chelsea and I both thought that we were going to a two-stepping bar. What we didn't realize was that we were really going to a community gathering. It wasn't a bar at all. There were grandparents and grandchildren and high schoolers. There were popular kids and misfits. It was a scene. People were sitting on lawn chairs, popping beers out of coolers. Chelsea and I found a space on a cement bench and watched.
There was a live band and a big cement block that people were dancing on. After some rag tag Texas Country, they played "Sweet Home Alabama" and I knew that these people were alright and everything was OK.