I’m not sure what Donald Judd was thinking when he began Marfa’s transformation into an art mecca, or the gentrification of a little town smack in the middle of nowhere. But I’m a sucker for old dogs.

Whenever we come through West Texas, we detour through Sierra Blanca. It must have been a proud town in its day, but now it’s deteriorated a little more with each passing year as the community’s pulse fades with the few aging people left.

Marfa, on the other hand, is a bona fide art mecca. Hardware stores and warehouses transformed into studios and galleries. Cafes have become trendy restaurants. Overdressed free-range art snobs, trendy artists, a feeling that none of this art was actually born in the land of mesquite trees and prickly pear.

But it’s alive. People and coffee and music. A sense of excitement that brings people in from all over the world.

Is that a good thing? I’m guessing the folks in Sierra Blanca would be as uncertain as i am.

We were sitting in the patio of a cafe and coffee joint eating enchiladas. An old dog wandered over from the next table and hung out with us for a while. It was a wonderful escape in a little place that exists solely because of the transformation. And we saw soooo much art. Some amazing, some beautiful, some weird, all interesting. And all in the same small neighborhood.

A town covered in Beto signs amid a sea of red, I think Marfa turned out OK. Time marches on. Stay in step or get left on the curb. I’m still not sure which is better.

I like Marfa, and old pooches.

But I love Sierra Blanca and that crumbling State Theater sign too. I’m so glad there’s room in the world for both.

Thanks, Mr. Judd. Maybe.