Disparate Images

Street-side Art:
Virgen de Guadalupe, South Alamo.

Urban Decay:
Liberty Food Store (South Flores).


Mexican “modern,” the library:
San Antonio’s downtown library, in, and of itself, a very cool resource. Apparently, there’s some debate about shape, style and color. Me? I like it, but I’m a tourist.

There’s new spin on an old location. Some of this is by surprise, some? Not really a genuine shock. The “Convent,” formerly an abandoned building, formerly, a convent, like, “Get thee to a nunnery,” for real. Nuns and all. It’s going to be bar.

Side Bar item:
The Old Church, in Dallas, there was time. It was, at one time, a favored drinking destination. Drink special on Monday nights, I think, any drink was under a dollar, a legend in its time. There’s a history of re-purposing holy places.

The ‘convent’ was painted ‘pink.’ Wouldn’t be more than a passing news item, but arch-conservatives were up-in-arms about the color.

Addendum:
The so-called ‘pink’ of the old/new convent? Looks much more like an earthen tone, akin to the San Antonio’s library’s ‘enchilada red.’

I’ve lived across the (North) American Southwest most of my life. Schools in Texas, New Mexico, twice, and college then university in Arizona. Then back and forth. The yellow and ochre of the New Mexico landscape and sky; the sepia backdrop of El Paso’s Franklin Mountains; the Arizona Canyon lands, russet and deep red, an echo of the sunset.

Although I count myself as a tourist from Northeast Texas, in fact, I’m a borderlands citizen, falling into border patois as quickly as natives.

To paraphrase, I’ve got artistic/emotional street credit for the Southwest and the Borderlands. Layered on top, I always claim tourist status to prevent unwelcome familiarity.

Across the street from the new/old now-pink Convent? There’s a row of recent (last 5-7 years) construction town-homes that are pastel colors. Look out of place in the artistic, historically well-preserved neighborhood.

How there can be a hue and cry about the color of the pink convent?

Seems like it’s misplaced angst, a little late. The color itself? It fits rather well. It’s an integral part of the American Southwest Culture.

Post Script:
Buried, along with, literally, thousands of other images, on the simple side-project, I know I’ve got pictures of the convent, in its original (abandoned) color and trim.

If I live like a monk, then a convent is natural attraction.

Cucullus non facit monachum.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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