Artist date #2 Austin edition: Field notes
I walk out the door, dressed in a red dress and borrowed sunglasses. The feeling that hits me immediately is freedom.
I have a little blue notebook from my college years full of exam reminders, books I wanted to read, and my favorite- field notes from Chicago neighborhoods. Back then, I made it a habit to take the train and get off at random stops on the brown line- Western, Diversey, Fullerton. I’d spend hours wandering, getting lost, and writing my discoveries as if I were the first to make them.
I could spend whole days this way, asking strangers over and over again if I was walking towards the lake or away from it, orienting myself to a new geography of becoming.
This week, hubby and I are in Austin, a spontaneous getaway driven by our desperation to escape the lingering gray of winter in the Midwest. Truthfully, I’ve been feeling pretty down the last week or so. It’s probably the weather, the natural ‘let-down’ of the post-holiday blues. Likely a touch of grief mixed with the exhaustion and monotony of new motherhood.
The change in scenery was not only welcome but necessary. Yesterday was sunny and eighty degrees, our Airbnb within walking distance from the SoCo area of town. The perfect set-up for some wandering. Here are some field notes from my second artist date, Austin style!
Time: 1:42pm
I walk out the door, dressed in a red dress and borrowed sunglasses. The first feeling that hits me immediately is freedom. The taco truck parked next door and the warmth of the sun on my cheeks remind me of Mexico and being nineteen, the daily walks to and from la escuela, bright, purple flowers cascading down the courtyard where we practiced Spanish in open-air classrooms.
Time: 1:55 pm
I reach the main intersection of Oltorf and South Congress and head toward downtown. A bus sighs, lowering its wheels to let off some passengers ahead of me. The sound is achingly familiar. I miss the days when I walked to the nearest bus or train station, the feeling of being invisible yet surrounded by people.
Trash blows across the street, making a scattering sound. To my right, a homeless camp sprawls out on an open lawn. These are the harder realities of urban life, the disregard for Mother Earth and its people. During my years in Chicago and then Nashville, I made a lot of friends who were houseless. Seeing familiar faces during my walks and time riding the bus changed my perspective; the conversations I’ve shared only highlight houselessness is a systemic problem, not an individual one.
Time: 2:01
I stop at a paperie called Play because, why not? Inside I find a beautiful pair of upcycled earrings and a sticker that says, “Normalize Bordeom.” I buy two because I know I need this reminder and perhaps a friend does, too.
I check out and feel a bit awkward, do people still look each other in the eyes? I make a mental note, I want to be someone who looks people in the eye.
Time: 2:15pm
I stop at Magnolia Cafe for a late lunch and force myself to order what’s unfamiliar- the iced hibiscus tea and a cornmeal pancake made with jalapeños served with a hearty bowl of black beans. Why is it so hard to try new things as we get older? To pretend for a moment we don’t know our own tastes? The willingness to take a risk seems to diminish over time.
So often these days when faced with the unknown I feel a sense of trepidation rather than excitement. I hesitate, unconvinced the potential danger is worth the possible reward. I envy the youthful naivety that propelled me across the world, nothing but a backpack on my shoulders and a general faith in humanity.
I think age changes our relationship to innocence but I wonder if we also use it as an excuse. Maybe wonder is more a habit than a season of life? I hope that afternoons like this one, a few stolen hours to wander, remind me just how good it feels.
Time 2:45pm
I continue my meandering in the general direction of Jenni’s ice cream, which I haven’t tasted since I was in Nashville. The famous SoCo mural is on the other side of the street, so I head over. I’d forgotten how much bravery it takes to cross six lanes of traffic (even when the walk sign is on)!
I snap a few pictures of the mural and feel a little self-conscious about taking a selfie because the UPS man is there but I wait around until I’m alone and take a cheesy selfie anyway. Because, why not?
Time 3:17pm
I’m nearing the end of my wandering but really relishing every minute. I’m still on a mission to get some ice cream when a man dressed in an old-fashioned suit, seated behind a typewriter stops me.
“Would you like a poem? You can pick any topic,” he encourages.
I start to walk past him and then take a second look. He’s got a simple set-up, a little table covered in a brown scarf with red roses, a typewriter, a stack of small, square pieces of paper held in place with a grey rock.
I think, why not? I ask him to write something about crows. A few minutes later, he produces this little gem. Upon further inquiry, he told me this pick-a-topic-poetry is his full-time job. It pays his rent and fills his car with gas, he insists!
Anything is possible.
Time 3:30ish
I find Jenni’s and unlike every other time I’ve been, there’s no line! I order one scoop of salty peanut butter with dark chocolate flakes and a blackberry bramble flavor which the girl behind the counter describes as an “elevated peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
I happily take my waffle cone and start the walk back. It’s still sunny and mostly uphill. My feet are a little sore and I’m definitely sweaty but I stop along the way to capture some more street art, as transitory as the January sun.
Time 4:05pm
I arrive back at the Airbnb, refreshed and feeling alive. My final takeaway? Life is too short to postpone your delight. A lesson I am still in the process of learning.
What about you?
Have you been to Austin?
When was the last time you wandered on foot?
How do you practice the habit of wonder?