bonneville, terlingua 14 by foodshark on Flickr.
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Red Glow - Food Shark Dining Car on Flickr.
Via Flickr:
The “dining car” of the Food Shark food truck (used on cold or rainy days), parked for the night at Food Shark HQ, bathed in the eerie glow of the reddish-orange Marfa street lights.
Olympus Pen E-PL1, Panasonic 20mm f/1.7 lens. -
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KRISTA & ADAM - Owners of Food Shark (Marfa)
Why do you like living here?
Adam: It’s isolated from the rest of the world, it’s difficult to get cable here, and there aren’t any traffic lights (except for one). It’s hard for people to get to me, they’d really have to want to find me. And I just love the landscape, and I love my business and my wife.
Krista: I like the landscape, the no traffic, the space - we can have a lot of stuff and cars, and no one cares. You see the same people everyday and they’re really nice. The art. And it’s far away.
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DAY 5: MARFA!!!!!!!
Marfa, Texas is the most interesting place I’ve ever been. I’m saying this without an ounce of irony or hyperbole. I had no idea it existed until a week ago, two friends told me within 15 minutes of each other that I had to go. They were correct.
As my tour guide at Chinati, Mike, put it, “this place shouldn’t exist.” It’s a town, in the middle of nowhere Texas (three hours from any airport), with a population of 2,000 and thriving art and food community. Yes, somehow a town of 2,000 has a thriving portion. In my brief 20 hours there, I felt both the small towness and the thriving.
The art scene was built around Donald Judd, the minimal artist and iconoclast. He built a foundation, the Chinati, there around a permanent exhibition of his work and the work of his minimalist friends. Built on an old army barracks it was the most compelling contrast of art and it’s surroundings I’ve ever experienced. It attracted other artists and gallerists, which then begat restaurants. This place shouldn’t exist.
Yet, there is nothing even resembling pretension about it; it’s fundamentally a small town. At dinner I met strangers - one an artist, one a former writer for Spin turned EMT - that couldn’t have been more inviting, giving me an overview of the towns story. They also knew the person whose couch I was to be surfing because “the town has only two Emilys.” I then saw those two strangers again when getting a drink with both of those two Emilys.
I texted many friends upon leaving, “we need to move to Marfa.” Fucking Marfa, a place I hadn’t even heard of days ago. It really was that instantly inspiring. It inspired me to keep going. Before this stop I was dragging. Despite being days into it, I was exhausted and bored. It felt like a drive. Marfa made it felt like a trip – a journey. I really liked Marfa.
This was about 30 miles out from Marfa. It was the most arresting piece of public art I’ve seen. Miles from anything else, this fake Prada store entitled “Prada Marfa” was created by artists Elmgreen & Dragset and is really something special.
The Get Go, I high end food shop. In the middle of Texas.
Once a run of the mill factory town.
This abandoned grocery story was turned it an exhibition space for an experimental lamp maker.
Home of where I got a drink with the Emilys.
It is still in Texas.
Where I wanted to eat. It closed. Much of Marfa is only open on the weekends. The town can’t support much else.
Where I ate. It was solid and surprisingly expensive. Maiya
Fennel Tart.
Emily’s place.
CHINATI FOUNDATION: The next few pictures are going to be of minimal art, scroll down if you don’t care. At the bottom there is a picture of a falafel.
One of the two large artillery buildings, Judd filled with large aluminium boxes.
The temporary Carl Andre exhibition
Dan Flavin turn five former living quarter in VERY Dan Flavin pieces of light art.
Claes Oldenburg.
Marfalafel
Miss U
