San Miguel de Allende

A taste of San Miguel. We spent the last leg of our hejira here, in the company of old and new friends. The air was honeyed, every morning we awoke to church bells and the cooing of doves. 

It is good to turn off the news (which is not really news, only bad news) and listen to the sounds of nature. Good to move slowly, breathe deeply and let the rest of the world take care of itself for awhile as you take a break.

Evenings in San Miguel this time of year can be cool but not cool enough to build a fire in our room.

Days we spent walking the narrow sidewalks, giving our old bones a fine workout.

Evenings I confess were spent imbibing ridiculous amounts of Margaritas and eating tortillas de maiz.

I have no doubt that the Virgin de Guadalupe watched over us every moment. I am not a brave or reckless person and imagine every kind of calamity that can happen during travel. I turned my fears over to the goddess. It's the best I can do.

Ellen Benson shared her game of drawing on randomly ink-blotted muslin; she gave me a couple of pieces to work on during my stay and this is one of the results. The color was applied by her, all I did was find shapes and fill in what I saw with indelible pen. It was really fun and something to do in airports and on the plane.

Of course I spent many hours chewing over my experiences in the journal. This time I only travelled with watercolors, pens, stamps and glue stick. Did some retro-decorating when I got back home.

I thought a lot about the impulse that drives creative people to make art. Came to the conclusion that all art is sacred, whether the maker intends it to be or not. The impulse is the same in both cases. Transcendence. Rapture. Euphoria and joy. Every artist knows that feeling from when a painting goes well. 

And color. How we do love color, obvious or nuanced. And texture.

Harmony. The line and the satisfaction of bringing disparate elements together to form something new.

I took a few shots at the big market on Tuesday. So much color, fragrance and sensual pleasure.

I remember when I used to be afraid to eat salads in Mexico. Those days are gone. Now I eat.

So much to choose from.

So many clever ways to cook the food.

There's food for vegans.

And for meat lovers. ha ha.

This is making me hungry.

Mexicans are famous for their agricultural knowledge. The variety and quality of vegetables at the market was astounding.

Beautiful food, lovingly prepared.

I haven't spoken much about the people who filled our days but study the beautiful faces in the photo above and you'll get an idea of the spiritual gift each person gave. Aging, precious flesh, long in experience and kindness; I learned from each one, received a silent communion and was filled.

Adios Miguelito. Adios and thank you for every precious moment.