Imágenes

A beautiful technique, that I always forget to do, is one I learned from Lynda Barry. When I do remember to do it, it's magic. At the end of the night, write 10 images from the day. It's important to write quickly, without editing, and without worrying about if they're good, great, or especially descriptive. It's practice in creating word pictures that make writing rich.

What I also love about this technique is it becomes a beautiful journal. The images take you right back. The first is a list I made in Oaxaca, two years ago, and the second I wrote in Albuquerque, just now.

• Soledad on a vintage post card, gold and diamonds, black dress
• Wild white lilies in the hand of the woman selling them to me as I ate entomatadas
• Band in the grandstand, white shirts and tubas
• Trays balancing on the heads of sturdy embroidered bodies
• Animal masks made of painted wood. Blue leopard, yellow spots
• Black high heels, wet cobblestones
• Krishna on the blue wall of "Casa del Angel"
• Heavy rain drops on glass ceiling, seen from savasana
• Pale orange squash blossoms, warm bread, green butter thick with herbs
• Silhouette of man, glow of glass lantern, courtyard, door shuts

• Puffy sacks under eyes in the mirror, me looking back
• Long brown hair of patient, barrette made of tape
• Dried scab on c-shaped scar, head on crooked pillow
• White gait belt around waist, hug goodbye
• Crumbs of scrambled egg roll down hospital gown
• Stitches on amputated leg of black man, white sheets
• Long handled shoe horn laying on my desk
• Guadalupe made of tiles, bricks in courtyard, stacked wood.
• Red umbrella, blue sky, here alone.
• Rusty white chair, spiral arms, sits in sun