Ili purchased this at the local Art Festival yesterday for me/the house. It is a 16x16 print by a female photog from Santa Fe. That is where Ili wants to move. I hear it every day. Land of enchantment, I reckon. The artist did nothing to dissuade her.
The photo is matted and framed in white. We thought to put it over “the library” (liquor cabinet”, but the whiteness of the picture did not go with the teak, so it ended up in the kitchen. We admire it.
We were invited to an annual party for the arts at an art collector attorney friend’s house last night. It is a lovely affair in a most wonderful, beautiful setting, but after a full day that began with a mimosa breakfast at what is about to become our favorite morning cafe and continued with a walk to the Boulevard festival (and more drinks) and me taking photographs again for the first time since being obliterated, we made a spaghetti dinner and drank wine, then whiskey, and decided to watch a documentary we found on YouTube about the birth of the blues. There was no getting up from the supreme comfort of the new leather couch after that. My only regret is not hearing the wonderful gypsy group, The Cook Trio,” under the cool night’s sky.
But I still get extremely tired and want to be still when the lights go down. I’m better, though. Pretty much spent the day on my feet. I’ll do much the same today without the booze, I hope.
Mother comes tonight for corned beef and cabbage. I’ve never made it before. We’ll see.
This photo brought back childhood memories. Forgive me if you’re already aware of the photo’s background and location, but The Road to Ruin was a bar in the town of Logan, in eastern New Mexico. My dad would take my brother and me on weekend fishing trips to nearby Ute Lake from our home in Muleshoe, Texas. In the afternoons when it was too hot to fish or ski, we would head to the bar where my dad could drink a couple of beers and my brother and I could amuse ourselves at the pool table. I think the place has long been shuttered, but my daughter is now the proud owner of a threadbare screen-printed t-shirt of the bar that I (more likely my dad) purchased from the proprietor sometime in the mid-to-late sixties. Always believed the bar was a great model of ‘truth in advertising ‘. My tee-totaling mom certainly believed it!
ReplyDeleteNice memory.
ReplyDeleteI passed by the empty storefront on my way to Ute Lake SP a week ago and couldn't help but wonder about the backstory. I'm very glad, David, that I was able to satisfy my curiosity with one simple google search. Thank you. (Now I don't have to bother their Chamber of Commerce!)
ReplyDelete