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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.