Thursday, November 01, 2012
words and their ways
A few bookish blogs I look at from time to time, and A Bloomsbury Life is one such, very worth reading because of posts like this, Have Words, Will Travel. In this lovely paean to the redolence of single words and the entire worlds they often evoke within us, the author says: "I have a fantasy that if I lost all my worldly possessions in a fire, as long as I had my list of words, my life would still have beauty and meaning." We carry what matters most to us within us, do we not? And words, and books, serve as mere reminders.
An old friend asked me once what my favorite word was. Hers was monsoon. For its sounds and all its possible connotations. At that time, I loved the word armoir. And Samarkand. Also, radiance. And billowing. Elegy. Melancholy. I have a paint chip sample from a hardware store that I've held on to for years because of its subtle dusty rose color and its name, Venetian portico.
Now, I would say, my favorite word is reverie. Everything about it floods me with quiet happiness.