Casa de la Real Aduana

Enjoyed a lovely dinner last night with Becky and friends-Gemme, Didier, and Bill–at the extraordinary Casa de la Real Aduana. Surrounded by a superb collection of photography, knives, axes, local art and crafts, and beautiful tunes, we enjoyed a memorable feast by the beautiful Gemme. Stories and laughter followed, then Didier shared his remarkable collection of tame and naughty corkscrews. Who knew unscrewing could be so much fun?…Apparently the Brits.

perros de tejado

Rooftop dogs are another obsession of mine. As I walk along the streets of Patzcuaro I can always count on seeing a dog or two above me. Usually they're just lounging around thinking about dog stuff, but occasionally they bark like mad, especially if I'm walking my dos perros in search of the perfect place to pee. In our neighborhood, walking dogs on a leash is as common as taking lobsters for a walk, so mangey dogs crawl out from under parked trucks and other shadowy places to catch a glance and a sniff of the curious Norte Americanos. One of these days I hope to make proper drawings out of these sorry photos, but for now I gather reference for a future series of fantastic illustrations. The featured dogs are all from Michoacan: Patzcuaro, Pitacuaro (woodworking town), Ihuatzio (beautiful straw crafts), and from a rooftop on a particularly scenic curve in the road near the tasty roadside restaurantes of el Tigre.

una cocina en San Jose de Gracias

Went on a beautiful all day road trip yesterday with friends: Michelle, Jesus, and Leticia, and visited towns I've always wanted to explore: Ocumicho (naughty clay devils), Patamban (exquisite pineapple-shaped pottery), Cucucho (giant handbuilt pots), and Paracho (guitars, guitars, guitars). On the way, we traveled thru Once Pueblos and saw lots of pyramidal ornos for baking brick, and piles of spiky red lychee nuts for sale in vendors' roadside wheelbarrows. The scenery was fantastic with volcanoes all around. Our first stop was in San José de Gracias, where a kind family invited us in and shared their process for making pottery. They also let me peek into their colorful kitchen…one of my recent obsessions. Love the kitchens down here. Even simple, dirt floor cocinas are super clean and efficient with all the cookware artfully arranged.

mi amigos

Too much going on to keep up. Friends from Tennessee came down to visit us for four days…an old buddy of mine from college, Art, and his cool family (Mary, Rachel, and Sarah). We had such a good time discovering new places, eating lots of ice cream and exploring the seemingly endless panaderias. Yum. We walked our legs off, rain or shine. Highlights included: trips to Juan Torres' home and studio; cemeteries and ghost stories around our fireplace; a day trip with an amazing guide thru Capula, Tzintzunzan, and Ihuatzio, winding along the lago de Patzcuaro towards a delicious comida at Camino Real; wading thru the mercado; sunsets on our rooftop; Nemo; and the enchanting sounds of Gas Express with a chorus of rooftop dogs singing throughout the night (thank God for earplugs). Our amigos set off this morning for Zihua. And I think they'll be back.

las pinturas de abuela

Well, we went for a great walk in the rain today. Tired of the knife sharpener dude's honking, the tierra kid's horses, and random trucks filled with pollos, our dogs were ready to hit the town, again. We started out down Calle Francisco Javier Clavijero, then over to Calle Jose Abade to see if our friends Lon y Santiago were home, down towards Lerin, past the Templo de la Compañía y Ex-Collegio Jesuíta, to the Museo, then a hard right up towards our friends Bob y Rosa's amazing casa on Calle Cedro. Taken with the altitude, Becky and our perros decided to take a breather while I wandered down to the end of Cedro to visit my favorite panaderia. Sadly, the baker hadn't opened yet, and I remembered Bob saying he didn't open until 5pm. Aarrgh. So, we walked back home, past the escuela and numerous barking dogs, past the weavers' taller who made our curtains, a momma doberman, lots of folks enjoying the cool weather, past the blue door where they process chickens, past our dirt corner and some friendly neighborhood kids, and into our cozy casa with wet feet. The dogs crashed and slept for a couple of hours while Becky relaxed and read Murakami, and I hung three Spanish paintings by my Grandmother Brawner.

pulque

Tings es still muy bueno in paradise though Becky and I are working our asses off, attacking our little courtyard garden as if our very lives depended on it. Bought out Los Trojes yesterday during a torrential rain storm then headed back to Casa Brawner for more digging and planting and pruning. Hummingbirds flittin’ around, cows mooing over our wall, roosters crowing, various sound systems around the ‘hood playing Reggaeton, Ranchero, and/or bad American power ballads. Love it. I love the contrasts down here: hole in the wall internet cafes tucked into decayed adobe dwellings with unattended horses walking by, men carrying full bird cages stacked on end to the mercado while Jehovah’s witnesses go door to door smiling, shoeshine guys shinning in front of 16th century cathedrals built on top of ancient Purepecha ruins while school girls busily text message friends. And telephone wires running every which way overhead.

Today was trash day, so I carried our bags to the little dirt corner. Actually, everyday is trash day: Monday thru Thursday is household trash, Friday is organics, and Saturday is recycling. But everyone really just throws it all away everyday. Between 8 and 9am you can count on hearing cow bells clanging, and that’s the call of the trash man. Then around 9:30, a clown horn starts honking, and we hear a little metal cart rattling along on our funky cobblestone street. That’s the knife sharpener dude. He usually sets up just outside our bodega. He’ll honk and honk then folks will usually show up to have knives or lawnmower blades sharpened, or to have raw chickens chopped up. He has great hair and seems very popular with the ladies.

Some guy just drove by in a pick up truck full of random metal objects announcing that he buys scrap metal. Actually, my Spanish ain’t much punkin’, so I am guessing that’s what he announced. He didn’t seem to have a political agenda.

Tomorrow we’re off to the Friday market for pottery, plants, and stories. And we usually see our pal Santiago there, who also has spectacular hair. Last December we bought some roses from a buddy of his who offered me a milky drink from an old plastic jug. It was pulque, a fermented drink made from agave. Apparently it was used as part of an Aztec ritual involving human sacrifice. Nasty stuff. Tastes kinda like a mayonnaise soda. Didn’t kill me though…not yet anyways.

la casa brawner sur

I'm looking over my left shoulder now and it's pretty dark out, but I can still see the little bodega lit up selling sodas to locals. A new hairdresser has set up shop next door, and I can see the reflection of someone getting a new doo in the shop's mirror. A blowdryer's blowing. The shop is open air to the street with collectivos driving by, and I see Nemo's silhouette looking thru the bars at kids walking underneath. Much conversation in the street. The smell of wood smoke and the sound of two dogs barking coming from Casa Brawner Sur. Our dogs will be so bored when they get back home…only squirrels to attend to.

buenas noches

Hola mi amigos. I'm sitting in my makeshift studio upstairs from where the real action takes place (la cocina). Guinness is asleep on our wee balcony after a busy early evening surveying the street scene. The windows are open to the cool night air. Nemo is sleeping and pooting, but has suddenly remembered something and left the room (thank God). Whup, now he's back and has positioned himself between two wooden bars under my drawing table, and has one large ear is sticking straight up. I hear chickens and lambs and a neighbor backing his car up, and his shocks require attention. Birds are chirping, cows are mooing, children are laughing, horses are doing whatever they do at night, I hear footsteps on our dirty little cobblestone street below, someone is hammering something, and a truck just backfired on the libramiento. Just looked over my left shoulder towards the little green bodega below, across the street (50 ft away), over Guinness napping on our wee balcony while a van containing a smiling young girl looking up at our big shaggy black dog drives by. Over my right shoulder I see the pale blue old baby mtn toward Morelia fading into the evening. It's overcast, the rains have arrived, and it is very cool in Patzcuaro. Feels sleepier than our last trip, quieter.

dos perros

So to jump right into this blog thing, Nemo scratched the hell out of our motel room door while my wife and I sipped yummy margueritas in Matehuala. Our first real dinner after days of tuna & crackers on the road, we returned to our room to find it locked from within by our six month old puppy, Nemo. Becky found a rusty wire in the weeds, so I poked and wiggled it thru the partially opened door while our dogs howled to be relieved from their Mexican hell. Miraculously, the door opened and we discovered the torn carpet, pee stains, and scratched door within.

To back up a bit, we left Nashville last Sunday for a summer adventure with only a vague idea of how we would drive south: Nashville, Locust Bayou (to visit Becky's parents), Victoria, McAllen, Matehuala, Patzcuaro. That wasn't our original itinerary, but that's how we went, with very few turnarounds…suffering only one 350 peso mordida. Traveling the flatlands at 70 mph we enjoyed dozens of Ed Ruscha scenes in towns called Alice, Edna, and Plain Dealing. After the border, and the honking of Reynosa, we drove thru northern Mexico at 110 kph, passing hundreds of painted Vulca tires and thousands of Krazy Kat trees.

The dogs have traveled like champs, though I'm sure they think we're on the lamb or in some sort of purgatory, destined to pee behind truckstops throughout eternity. It has been an inspiring trip so far, and the critters seem to love their new digs in Patzcuaro (we made it). Amused by the rooftop dogs and streetwise chickens, our companions are settling in for a summer in the cool mtns of Michoacan. Our sojourn will definitely revolve around them.