After waking up early in the morning the sunlight pouring into my room through I take a glance trough the thin panes of the windows at this little town.
There is nobody on the streets and I can’t even see a car. The one and only crossing with a traffic light is empty. And the city hall looks like taken from a movie scenery. I feel like visiting the fifties. That was exactly the time when James Dean shot the film “Giants” in this little town, Marfa, in Southwest Texas. Since then things will surely have changed. It’s just that the observer won’t recognize.
There is not much to do in Marfa except of visiting the great exhibitions of Donald Judd and other artists or exploring a vast landscape that takes the time traveller to the Mexican border and the Rio Grande and other little towns as remote and frozen in time like Marfa.
So I spend hours at the Patio of the Paisano Hotel, listening to the sound of the fountain and allowing my thoughts to roam by spontaneous inspiration and association. This place is quiet, hot and extraordinary. It throws oneself back to the roots of happiness and sadness. But even the latter is still enjoyable. In the patio of the Paisano even the very bad coffee that went through a solitary existence of at least one full day in the large coffeepot next to the reception in the hall of makes me feel good. Marfa has a kind of magic nobody can explain. But it forces people to come and visit.
As a matter of fact and emotion I could have stayed for weeks just enjoying this spot and writing my new book. This weird remote place imposes strange thoughts and strange behaviour on me and makes me very, very happy.
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