It is good to do things twice. Am I aging myself by taking the same parallel vacations year after year, in the same locations with the same people? Maybe. Last week I took a plane to visit the rugged and wild folks of Bosque Farms. It is so beautiful there. The morning light is strange across the desert and even moreso here, where it moves through crops and weeds and trucks to make its way onto the backs of chairs and just-picked iridescent fruits. It is easy to idealize these places but I tried not to. My friends who labor there have huge biceps and work long hard hours between sunburns for a few dollars, handfuls of produce, and heavy sleep. We slipped away for a mini-vacation up north and spent a few days camping and climbing at El Rito Crag. Unfortunately, I got terribly sick and we had to head back early to the farm for cool washcloths and doctors visits.
When traveling, I re-read one of Roni Horn's art books that I bought when I was living in Marfa. I'm sure Horn is one of the best living American artists and when she talks about the desert it gives me the chills, even though I know she is talking about Iceland and not New Mexico. I even read some of it aloud when we were rushing through the dust, rambling on about sameness and difference and the edge. This stuff is good. I'm back in the city and recovering, still dreaming of the desert and loving it for for its weird and extreme ends, it's salt and wind, and the darkness of its corners.
Recipes and vegetables to come,
NRG
THIS PLACE IS DREAMY
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