Alice

The little town of Terlingua, Texas, has a reputation as a refuge for misfits, miscreants, rascals, and scoundrels.  Throughout its alternating history as a mining town and a ghost town, it has been a hideout and refuge for those who, for whatever reason, have felt the need to excuse themselves from the rest of society and disappear.  It has also been known as a haven for those who have found themselves on the wrong side of the law.  If you want to get lost, hide from someone, or just be left alone, there probably isn’t a better place than Terlingua. 

Over the past few decades, Terlingua has also become a sanctuary of sorts for dozens of free-wheeling, free-spirited, creative types.  These artists, sculptors, musicians, writers, and creators who have landed in Terlingua draw energy and inspiration from, among other things, the unique geography of this place.  The harsh but beautiful desert, the mysterious but stunning mountains, and the haunting spirits that seem to fly on the winds in the area, all combine to make the place a giant muse for those who come to create.  

But sprinkled in like a wild, spicy seasoning among the recluses and the creative types, you will also find those who march to a slightly different drumbeat than the rest of us.  Terlingua is a place where craziness is worn like a badge of honor.  Non-compliance and individualism is the norm.  Wackiness seems to be a part of the culture.  People don’t dare judge each other.  For the most part, people in Terlingua just don’t care what others do, or what they think.  “Live and let live” could certainly be the town’s mission statement.  When a resident was recently asked to describe the local dating scene in Terlingua, he summed it up this way: “The odds are good, but the goods are odd.”  

On a recent visit to Terlingua, Fawn and I had the memorable experience of meeting one of these “colorful” Terlingua characters, and I want to tell you about her.  Her name was Alice.

We first heard about Alice during a visit to a local artist’s gallery.  After spending way too much money on his beautiful art, we asked him about other galleries in the town that he would recommend.  This led us to a couple of unique shops with equally beautiful works.  However, at each one we were told that we really should visit Alice’s gallery.  “You have to meet Alice”, they would say.  One lady warned us, “Alice can be a little erratic at times, but hopefully she’s on her meds today”.  We decided we couldn’t possibly leave town without finding Alice and her studio.  

Once we found the place, we parked in front of the white stucco building and walked past some worn out picnic tables up to the front door.  A sun-bleached sign advertising the “Big Bend Art Gallery” hung on the building above some weathered wooden chairs.  The parking lot was empty except for our van, and we both felt a little uneasy as we slowly opened the wooden door.  Our trepidation was overcome by our curiosity, and we eased into the shop.

As we stepped inside, we first thought there wasn’t anyone else there.  But we could vaguely hear the muffled sound of a TV coming from somewhere in the building.  

“I’ll be right there!”, we finally heard a woman’s voice yell from the other room.  

As we heard the volume on the TV turn down, we both stood gazing around at the “art” displayed on every square inch of every wall of the room.  

“What in the world?” Fawn whispered to me as we looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Sorry, I was right in the middle of this crazy movie that I’ve seen a thousand times.  I can tell you exactly what happens next anyway”, she said with a laugh.  

I asked if she was Alice, and she said, “Yep, that’s me”!

We could tell right away that we were in for a real treat.  Alice bounded down the three steps from what I suppose was her living area, down into the gallery space where we stood.  She was not much more than 5 feet tall, wearing thick, horn-rimmed glasses with tinted lenses.  She wore a vibrant, multi-colored housecoat, and pink high-top sneakers.  Her unkempt gray hair fell just past her shoulders.  

I was spellbound by the variety of interesting creations that were spread out everywhere…on the walls, the tabletops, and the counters.  There were watercolors, oils, penciled art, charcoal, even some pottery.  Some of it I would have considered childish and simplistic throwaways.  But there were others that were truly beautiful “masterpieces”.  There was such an expansive hodge-podge of curious items that I had to ask her if all of this was of her own creation.  “Oh yes, it is!  Let me tell you about it!”  

I suppose that’s what started it all….it was as if I had just opened the valve on a fire hose to “full-on”!

Over the next half hour or so, we heard all about her artistic methods and inspirations.  We learned how she had ended up in Terlingua after traveling the country as a successful singer, and part of a small band (she said she’d played bass guitar, which conjured up a comical image in my mind).  We listened, fully rapt, as she sang a beautiful little song for us.  We watched as she dug a leather case out from behind the couch cushions.  It was her full set of harmonicas.  She found the one with just the right key she needed, and played us a complicated melody without even warming up.

Fawn and I kept looking at each other and shaking our heads.  We both felt like we had stepped into a time warp and needed to get out of there as soon as we could.  But at the same time, we were riveted (perhaps mesmerized is the better word), curious to hear or see the next interesting tidbit from this strange lady.

Alice’s stories came to us in a never-ending stream of consciousness.  It was hard to keep up with her as she skipped from topic to topic, making us laugh with her verbal antics, stinging barbs aimed at various people in her life, politicians, or folks out in the town.  We heard about a recent visit from a rattlesnake, who had “Slithered in the door like a tourist”!  You couldn’t help but love her.  She was one of those Grandmother-types that you know you would do anything for.    

We noticed one particular, rather large, work of pastels and watercolors laying on a table.  It was a work in progress that was truly striking.  Alice told us that it was a “commissioned piece” she was currently working on for a lady in San Antonio.  I then noticed a smaller piece on the wall that I thought would make a good souvenir for us from our Big Bend trip.  She said she had just finished it a few days earlier.  Then she looked up at me and said, strangely, “Just for you!”  

I suppose you could call it a landscape, or actually a nightscape.  It contains a simplistic view of the Chisos mountains on a moonlit, starry night, complete with a little ceramic moon which Alice carefully glued onto the canvas as we were talking, to finish it off.  But what was truly unique about this painting was the way the nightscape is viewed through an opening of some sort… A cave? A window? A tent door?  I wasn’t quite sure, but it had an eerie 3-dimensional quality about it that drew me in.  

As she sensed we were trying to wrap up our visit and leave, Alice seemed to amp up the stories and antics, not wanting her captive audience to leave.  As she told us about her years as a Yoga teacher, she sat in a chair and flexed her biceps for us.  She attempted to lift her right leg up over and behind her head, as if to show us she was still qualified.  She almost made it!  “Not bad for a 78 year-old gal, huh?”  As we slowly made our way through the gallery to the door, Alice said,  “Watch this!”  She leaned over and put her hands down on the top of the steps leading to her living quarters.  She then extended her feet all the way back between us on the floor so that she was completely stretched out, almost horizontal, and commenced doing a dozen or so push-ups for us.  Not bad at all!  

When we finally made it to the door, I asked Alice how much she wanted for the painting I had picked out.  She thought about it for a while, then finally said, “I’ll take $50 for it…and I’ll even sign it for you.”  There was no way I could not take it!  Reaching into my pocket, I counted out what I had and realized I had only $46.  “That’s ok”, she said. “I’m not worried about $4. I am more worried about the $46!”

As we made our way out to our van, Alice talked (yelled) at us from the gallery door until we were in the van and the doors were closed.  Once inside, Fawn and I took a deep breath, looked at each other and shook our heads, grinning.  “What in the hell just happened?”, Fawn asked.

Several days later, my curiosity got the best of me and I Googled Alice, just to see what I could learn.  I found that her life had indeed been an interesting one, full of great highs and terrible lows.  She had attended Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania, studying art.  During the good times of her life, she was married.  Her son was born in Mother Frances Hospital in my hometown, Tyler.  She was indeed a professional singer and songwriter for a while.  I even found recordings of her songs on Spotify, and they are beautiful – upbeat, happy and jazzy.  She had a tremendous voice (still does!).  I found a photo of her online, in her 30’s I’d guess.  It shows a beautiful, vibrant young woman, seemingly full of confidence, energy, and creativity.  She was a respected local artist in the Big Bend region, involved in promoting the arts in the area for many years.  She became one of several fun-loving “characters” in Terlingua that epitomized the wackiness and free-spirited attitudes of folks in the area.    

There were apparently some dark times as well.  One can find evidence online of a period in her life when she was obviously fighting terrible demons that are better left unexamined now.  Other images online show the antithesis of that young, vibrant singer in the earlier photo.  In the darker days of her life, her works of art, and probably other things of great value, were as likely to be bartered for a bottle of vodka as sold for cash.  I wondered if perhaps that woman in San Antonio periodically “commissions” art from Alice these days, just to help her make ends meet.   

The painting I bought from Alice hangs in our house now.  It will always bring back memories for me of our amazing trip to Big Bend and Terlingua – cherished times with cherished friends.  When my eye lands on the painting, I think about the stunning total eclipse of the sun we witnessed on the way there.  I think about the beautiful Chisos mountains of Big Bend where we hiked.  I think about the never-ending expanse of the West Texas desert.  I think about the morning I walked outside at 5:00 am and saw the pitch-black sky with the Milky Way spanning across it.  It was as clear as a bell and seemingly close enough for me to reach up and give it a swirl with my finger.  And I think about Alice…a little crazy, but nobody’s fool.  Wise to life, and probably one of the most interesting characters I’ve ever met.  That painting by Alice makes me smile.   

I suspect that the “throwaways” and the “masterpieces” on Alice’s gallery wall could all be synced up on the timeline of her life with the highs and lows she experienced, as her creativity and her control of her own life waxed and waned.  I suppose we all have our “throwaways” and our “masterpieces” among the creations on our life’s timeline.  

Just before we left Alice that day, in between the yoga demonstrations, she saw me holding the nightscape painting, trying to figure it out.  She looked at the painting, and then looked directly into my eyes, smiling.  She pointed a finger to her head and said, “My mind’s eye”.  

One certainly cannot claim to know another person after spending only 30-40 minutes with them, but I wonder now if the portal in Alice’s painting might represent the closing aperture of this lonely woman’s life, as her days are growing fewer in number.  Could the viewport represent the impending eclipse of a long, adventurous life…one that was lived hard and fully, with the attendant highs and lows of a roller-coaster ride?  

Take a look.  What do you think?