I found this lovely wall while walking thru San Juan… and couldn’t help but think about some words I read in a book:
“and our eyes locked fin one of those shared but wordless moments when you know that a stranger is thinking the same thing, or something approximating it, about an event that is unfolding…” David Cohen, Diary of a Commuter
Many people keep journals, to have a record of moments, of things they did on a particular day, on a particular year, so they can storage and maybe some other person reads it many years later. Somehow I find I have done the same but not with moments, but with words.
I have many books, notebooks, papers everywhere, and what you are going to find in them is WORDS. It could be a sentence of a song, something someone said in a movie. And definitely things I get out of books because they sound so ethereal, they take may mind away, far far away. So, I do keep some kinds of journals, but they are in everywhere I am, in everything I touch. I can be reading a book (and yes, I am one of those who underlines, writes notes on the foot of the page, I mark pages, I do it all) I can be reading a neuroscience’s book and have notes of songs on any given page. Is just what I do. Someday someone is going to read my things and say: ”this girls lived in some kind of fantasy” and yes, I live lost in words, in images of what those words mean or can be.