Cool Linda D

The website of Linda Domingo: storyteller, adventurer, lover of good food and other cool things. Hope you find something that intrigues you here.

Not Tuesday Tunes

Tennis – “I’m Callin”

Come on and let me in, I’m callin’.

Not Tuesday, but the new Tennis album is way too good.

On Joan.



Johnny Carson: Don’t you think men really like intelligence more when it comes right down to it?

Joan Rivers: No man has ever put his hands up a woman’s dress looking for a library card.

On Spray Paint and Sunburns.

Like I discussed in my last post, I spent a good chunk of a day witnessing the creation of some beautiful artwork in Costa Mesa while I was working on a story on Orange County street art. I’m super grateful to Tyke Witnes AWR for letting me be a creeper/document part of the process, which ended up taking two separate days of painting. I was only there for the first day, but if you’d like to see the finished product, it’s behind Mesa Art & Framing off of 19th Street. There’s also a nice video of the process, shot and edited by Jordan Ahern, whom I had the pleasure of meeting. He documents artists at work; see his videos on his Vimeo page.

If you aren’t familiar, please also check out Dabs and Myla’s website and Instagram page as well as Ewok’s work for some additional inspiration.


On Street Art in Orange County.


A couple months ago, I took an assignment on “street art in Orange County.” I’m not sure what I was thinking when I accepted it, because street art isn’t really “a thing” in conservative OC—I guess I just wanted to look at art and talk to artists. It was a bit of a struggle, but once I started talking to people, I opened up the flood gates and ended up with a story that was 1,000 words over word count. I could have written even more. The topic is familiar to a younger generation that’s attracted to something I guess we could deem a counterculture, art that’s created, a lot of times, from no formal training and has roots in illicit activities. So the biggest hurdle was writing for an audience that doesn’t intuitively understand street art’s appeal in a region that’s known for a passionate and resounding rejection of it. I really have to thank James Daichendt and Dana Jazayeri, who are both quoted in the story, for helping to break down terms I felt that were just accepted by the general public, when in reality, they’re completely foreign concepts to many. I also have to thank Tyke, Ewok, and Dabs and Myla for letting me lurk on them all day while they painted a really awesome wall in Costa Mesa, behind Mesa Art & Framing. If you’re in the area, please do check it out, Instagram it, do the whole shebang. I’ll post some of the photos that didn’t get used in the piece later. 

Anyway, here is the finished product, a labor of love, but labor, nonetheless. Thank you, as always, for reading.

Saturday Night Reads

I don’t see anything wrong with a piece of reporting turning into a fable. In fact, when I’m researching a story and the real-life situation starts to turn into allegory … I feel incredibly lucky, and do everything in my power to expand that part of the story. Everything suddenly stands for something so much bigger, everything has more resonance, everything’s more engaging. Turning your back on that is choosing to ignore tools that make your work more powerful. But for lots of reporters, the stagecraft of telling a story—managing its fable-like qualities—is not just of secondary concern, but a kind of mumbo jumbo that serious-minded people don’t get too caught up in. To them, somehow, that’s a kind of childishness that has no place in our important work as journalists. One officemate at that time—a Columbia University School of Journalism grad—would come back from the field with funny, vivid anecdotes she’d tell us in the hallway. None of them ever appeared in her reports, which were dry as bones and hard to listen to.

She always had the same explanation for why she’d omit the entertaining details: “I thought that would be putting myself in the story.” As if being interesting and expressing any trace of a human personality would somehow detract form the nonstop flow of facts she assumed her listeners were craving. There’s a whole class of reporters—especially ones who went to journalism school, by the way—who have a strange kind of religious conviction about this. They actually get indignant; it’s an affront to them when a reporter tries to amuse himself and his audience.

I say phooey to that. This book says phooey to that.

—Ira Glass, in the introduction to “The New Kings of Nonfiction”


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 81 other followers