A writer’s view is largely internal. We imagine other places and see through faces that are not our own. I watch another’s hands stir the dough and turn earth and lock the clasps that change their histories. We live in a world steeped with accumulated memories and sighs, the ink of our pens washing out layers previously hidden. Don’t be deceived. Imagination relies on our bodies. We write in the intersections of body and soul, and a pen cannot move forward a jot without both. Writing is an act of the body-soul union. All writing is prayer in this way. What we put before our eyes affects the vision of our mind’s eye. I can’t trace all the effects of my writing view, but I…