For breakfast, I had two French
Between the potato bread slices was a thin coating of
cheese whipped with raspberry juice. Atop the egg-cinnamon
toasted sandwich was a snow-mountain-sprinkling of powdered
sugar, and puréed raspberries.
The French toast waded in a pool of maple
My hosts and I chatted about my adventures from yesterday.
We also discussed the Abiquiú real estate market
as well as the high profile celebrities who inhabit the
Now I'm off to view some Georgia
I'm sitting in a French pastry shop eating Quiche
Lorraine and drinking a café
au lait. The nutmeg accents the bacon and creamy-egged
cheese settled upon a crust that goes unnoticed once placed
in the mouth. The au lait differentiates without disturbing
the quiche's savour.
I thought I was lost, so I took the next exit and drove
to a rest
area. I topped off the gas tank before walking into
the Indian (from India) restaurant
store. The restaurant adjoined the convenience store.
I made use of the facilities before I hunted-down a tortilla
turkey wrap made with leaves of romaine lettuce, tomato
pieces, black bean droplets, jack cheese and some kind
of mayo-spread. The wrap was wrapped in cellophane revealing
the freshness of the ready-made not exhibited by the sticker-priced
sandwiches adjacently placed.
I was pointed in the correct direction towards Santa
Fe by the cashier who defended me in Spanish to his
coworker. Just a few miles away from Georgia
I viewed her artwork, watched the short documentary,
and walked away with abstract realism. What is significant
is that there is a big push of magic
realism in the Philadelphia
art tropes and painting techniques (as curated
in this exhibit) to bring alive the spirit of the Abiquiú
she inhabited. There were some of her flowers as well
as some New York paintings, but the flowers strayed away
from abstraction and the New York buildings shadowed over
What came close to my sense of magic realism was O'Keeffe's
series. The mythical references of the Kachinas'
literariness contrasts with the connotations of the floating
steer skulls' surreality--both
perhaps discovered during a sunstroked haze while out
on the White Plains.
The time is 5:17pm and the French pastry shop closes
at five. The employees are wiping down the tables and
dry-mopping the floor.
Hispanic radio station is playing while the tourists
around me are wondering why the downtown is closing up
shop so early this Thursday afternoon.
I pay the check that was placed/sitting
on the table a half hour ago by my apologetic
Thus the magic
I think I need to find some prints on paper and murals
to stare at for a while.