The Train You Hear

Has long been the lifeblood for Marfa… but it no longer stops there. You can hear it coming in the middle of the night but it will only stop at Alpine, the next town about thirty minutes drive from Marfa. Alpine will be of no interest to art aficionados, other than finding more affordable accommodation during the Chinati Weekend when the crowds invade the tiny town and all of its 12 hotels; but we simply had to have a look at its quaint little train station and the much larger Big Bend Saddlery, where we shopped for hats, ties and the like (not saddles, no…)

Back in Marfa, we walked under the watchful eye of El Cosmico before returning to the town centre – where we came across a “No Parking” sign in perfect Greek… Only in Marfa!

And, finally, back to where we started; a full round. It was an unforgettable trip – and, yet, there was more to come!

Marfa, TX

October 08-09, 2018

Baltimore – First impressions

Baltimore reminded  me of an old aristocratic lady who, over the years, saw her fortune shrink to a mere fraction of its original grandeur and now poor, charmingly shabby but perfectly coiffed, watches the world go by from her porch sipping tea from her last remaining heirloom fine bone china.

It is easy to fall for the charms of this lady, her innate elegance evident even in unexpected places. Like this incredible waiting room in Baltimore’s Penn Station, bathed in light filtered through three stained glass domes, in place of a ceiling.

April 26th, 2017

Time.Travel.Dream.

Ten past nine. Time doesn’t matter. What matters is I lost you. You hugged me and drifted away in the shadows. You said it’s ok. You said you’d be back by nine. I tried to call you but I couldn’t remember your number. Your number. The one I called thousands – countless times year upon year upon year. I pushed the memory button but that didn’t work either. Anxiety turning to desperation. I start to panic but I try to focus. I start again, digit after digit after digit. Together they look familiar, perhaps I’m getting somewhere. Yet somehow I find it impossible to dial your number to the end. Either I loose track or the screen gets blurry – finally the battery goes dead. Best I can do is wait under the clock. Or wake up.

A recurrent dream.

October 7th, 2016