How wonderful the markets were, spilling with fruits and vegetables in the most incredible shades of vibrancy, what a beautiful relief from the staleness of the supermarkets of our lives...
orange halves wrapped up with chili powder and salt..mmh
they wheeled in several fresh pigs on their backs as we watched, i find beauty in the freshness and realness of the meat sourcing, here it is, no slaughterhouse, no factories.
Like these chickens: shining with beautiful yellow fat, their heads still attached just like I remember them from my italian girlhood
Steve at the market, cranky all the time, even the Virgen de Guadalupe couldnt't help that.
one lunch down: a fragrant roast chicken stand,the pieces sold with pickled onions,diverse and delicious salsas, rice and tortillas
we found an old merrygoround
fruit on the rosa mirador's counters
who remembers their beautiful tiles? crumbling and old now, and just as beautiful, cellular memories, the smell of this courtyard.
and their murals
details of the old hotel, a terracotta honeycomb window
and this roof
I think my almost favorite part was the colors, the brightly painted stucco's, the corners and nooks of beauty to be found so often, the tiles, and the flowers
... oh the flowers
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