Some of my friends and colleagues know me as “wordgirl” even to the extent that my partner manaXi calls me WG, every single day. I’m obsessed with writing letters with my gold fountain ink pen, with words and wordplay, letters formation to making sentences, (secret communicative) acronyms and personal languages, the language of action(s), signs-symbols-semiotics, international language and translation, cultural nuances and dialects…where a recent internet find – ‘The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows’ – has made me very, very happy.
The new video series describing John Koenig’s on-going wordic project actually brought me to tears for how much I believe in the power of each letter and word…their memory and impact. Watch it and feel each sentence as it plays out, resonating in your mind.
‘The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows’ is ‘a compendium of invented words written by John Koenig. Each original definition aims to fill a hole in the language – to give a name to emotions we all might experience but don’t yet have a word for. The author’s mission is to capture the aches, demons, vibes, joys and urges that roam the wilderness of the psychological interior. Each sorrow is bagged, tagged and tranquilized, then released gently back into the subconscious’…http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com This project made me immediately reference the Mandarin, Chinese language and how their characters and words can often encompass a feeling, experience, philosophy and more in so little…something that does not exist in the same way in English. In wonder what the next word will be on ‘The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows’…? Show me, tell me…please.
“There is no word in the English language for the desire to disappear” (the thought I have on a daily basis)…
vemödalen – n. the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist—the same sunset, the same waterfall, the same curve of a hip, the same closeup of an eye—which can turn a unique subject into something hollow and pulpy and cheap, like a mass-produced piece of furniture you happen to have assembled yourself.
sonder, noun: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.