Pictures Of A New Book: Page Forty Seven

Julia Cameron calls it: Painting a room. Take your writing instrument and bring to life every corner. Give off the scent of so much description that no matter where you're reader's are living... they can see, feel, hear and smell the essence of expression. It's that technique that kept my eyes dipped in buckets of paint while walking through New York City. I refused to jump into impatient yellow cabs. I couldn't be hustled through the transit system. For me to grasp the invisible. I had to become part of it.

My latest book Scrambled Eggs sits on the benches of cluttered streets overrun by business minds and wandering dreams. 832 Broadway shook the nib almost off the instrument. Seconds before arriving. Nearly 11pm. I could've been watching the Presidential debate but found myself inside a comic book store instead. Had I known at the time that the universe was handing me a book to write.

I might have paid closer attention to the busy needs of Super Heroes and cartoon characters. Once within the thin pages of strips and cabinets of plastic figures. I realized the importance of mirrors. Finding my way to a corner. To watch late night New Yorker's. The essence of a dance fed the eyes of the storyteller's lyrics.