“Talismans are reminders of what is felt but not seen, what is so, but not immediately obvious.”
- Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I've been in MARFA these past few days. A desert oasis put on the map by Donald Judd, a New York artist who set up his art and architecture studios in reimagined old army barracks dotted around the town.
Marfa is an unassuming place where I find endless beauty and fascination. A land where nature takes precedence over just about everything. The drive in from El Paso paves the way for the quiet horizon of ranch land, cathedral mountains and big sky that lies ahead.
This time of year, golden tufts of tumbleweeds make their way across the desert, and deserted highway roads, piling up into mounds by wood and barbed wire fences harkening back to more prolific cattle ranching days. The cacti blooms are long gone, leaving glorious earth colored seed pods behind. The landscape is a lesson in a new agriculture, specific to surviving and thriving in this dusty, often windy, clime. I will speak of the luminous light and sunset skies in another post, as it deserves much more attention than I intended to devote for this post. I will only say that above all, the light alone is worth the visit, to imagine yourself a reason to stay.
I am a collector of by nature. Not just things, but Talisman treasures that remind me where I have traveled, memories I have lived and loved, objects of beauty that mark, or create, a meaningful moment in time.
"A talisman isn't about material worth, it's about symbolic meaning. We all have something that is important to us because of what it tells us about ourselves and our journey."
Talismans are tools for transformation. A symbolic object that represents some personal connection, perhaps even spiritual revelation. And in this case, an altar to the land, also an art installation in process. When we slow down long enough to recognize ordinary beauty hiding in plain sight, even the most unassuming objects, when held with intention, can become our talismans.
x Alisa