Day 10: Black and white
I’m a word lover. A logophile. A magnetic poetry junkie.
From a very young age, I wrote in a journal and collected little scraps of paper with words on them. As I got older, I began to assemble notebooks of quotations. I even put together two small bound books of quotations for two dear friends, and I spent months carefully selecting each precious word.
My decision to go to graduate school was fueled by my love of words. I loved writing and reading and I thought I might like helping others learn to love words, too.
My bulletin board at work is a battleground. The important, work-related things are rapidly being overtaken by words. The territory maps and gift annuity rates are putting up a good fight, but they can’t compete with Eve Ensler and Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I surround myself with words. They comfort me. They inspire me. They remind me of who I am.
Words matter to me. They get me through hard days and provide companionship on lonely days.
This group of words is arranged on the wall going upstairs in our apartment. I try to stop and read at least one of the quotes every time I go up or down the stairs.
I like to think that this repetition means that these words will be embedded in my soul, like my freckles or the alto harmonies in Carmina Burana. That they will stay with me, even when they aren’t hanging on my wall anymore.