Word of the Week | APRICITY

Welcome to Word of the Week! I hope you guys enjoyed reading last week's post as much as I loved writing it. As a writer and (self-proclaimed) wordsmith, I'm absolutely fascinated by obscure and felicitous words; it's so much fun discovering them, exploring their derivations and, most importantly, getting to share them with all of you.

APRICITY
Definition: the warmth of the sun in winter

This week's word comes from the Latin meaning "to bask in the sun" and, I must say, it is a beautiful one. Apricity has long been one of my favourite words because it describes something so simple and yet incredibly sublime. My poetical brain can see such potential for an amazing extended metaphor that it could be used for!

If you liked this series, be sure to check back next Monday for a fab new word.

What do you think of this week's word?

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Word of the Week | PRONOIA

Welcome to a sparkly new series on Lunar Look! I am madly in love with words (perhaps even more so than I am with numbers!) and I've spent a great portion of my life discovering, analysing and obsessing over vocabulary - all while being in awe at the subtlety of the English language. I have sat for hours contemplating the seemly insignificant difference between the words 'eternal' and 'immortal'; while many simply see these as synonyms, I firmly believe that no two words can be identical in meaning and effect. Every string of 26 characters is unique. 

As language evolves, I constantly find myself discovering new words and phrases to describe incredible feelings, beliefs and occurrences that many didn't know even existed. That is why I decided to start this new 'Word of the Week' series. Each week, probably on a Monday, I will pick an obscure or interesting word to create a post around. It might be meaningful, it might be strange or it might simply just be beautiful. Either way, I can only hope it inspires you to see the magic, beauty and power of words. (Or at least just helps to improve the world's vocabulary!)

PRONOIA
Definition: the belief that the universe is conspiring in your favour

We've all heard of paranoia, but not many are aware of its wonderful antonym. I picked it because I've been living in a state of pronoia for the past few years of my life and I didn't even know there was a word for it until last year! The Universe always knows best even if you think you know better. I choose to have faith that everything is coming together and unfolding perfectly, rather than fearing that it isn't. How blessed we are. How wonderful life is. To know there are forces out there happening right now that you don't even know about. The Universe is always on your side.

Liked this new series? Tweet me at @TheNinaJC and check back next week to see the new word!

What do you think of this week's word 'pronoia'?

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The Summer Of Silences

I stood still and watched the sun drip

across a candy-coloured skyline and

melt into a puddle on the pavement.

Clouds hung suspended in the air like

wavering pegs on a washing line

anticipating, frozen, a ghost trapped

between two sides. Propelled into

motion, the blanket of fog descends

and suffocates. Wraps itself around

the earth’s neck and breathes. 

Squeezing its victim into submission,

this is the kiss before the bite.

Sometimes I am forced to remember.

In the transient passing of nature: a

wisp of smoke, the crunch of gravel,

the flicker of a firefly. I once thought

I saw a shadow there. In silent screams

the moon pulsates and I find myself catching

honey between the cracks, scooping handfuls into

my mouth for there is fear of forgetting to taste.

I will watch the hourglass until the sand begins to

flow backwards. It never does but, darling, we have

waded in too deep to turn back now. It is only July, 

I remind myself. Flowers still have time to bloom;

I am just a negative waiting to develop.

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Falling In Love With A Catastrophist

There is fire in my bones and lightning

in your lungs. When we kiss it’s like

a thunderstorm. Two tectonic plates­

crash against each other and

somewhere in the world starts

quaking. Seismic waves are quicker

than calling. Continental drift is the

earth’s defence mechanism for

commitment. Static electricity, like

miscommunication, is simply friction

in motion. I am crushing sandstorms­

between my teeth, breathing in

hurricanes like oxygen, swallowing

the volcanic ash of survival; to think

we are all made of liquid love and

some will never feel the force of a

tsunami. Sometimes I am stuck

in the eye of a tornado, others I am

spinning in it. Either way, we are a

whirlwind of skin and bone; flesh and

blood; bruises and scars. Laying in

the fresh rubble of our own creative

destruction, I realise, our love is an

oxymoron; a natural disaster; a

phenomenon scientists could only

dream of understanding.

3AM Refrigerator Light Confessions

I am an old friend of bruised knees and bathroom floors,

exhaling until the chest is empty and body no longer breathing;

only absence lives here now. Cold stone tiles,

so we meet again: spilling secrets into each other's mouths

until we see the light of dawn, we whisper

with a hope of being heard, yet fear of being listened to.

For weeks I have been swallowing metaphors like honey,

gulping down apologies for breakfast,

biting my tongue until the taste of forgiveness fills me --

for once my throat is not made of molasses.

There is a reason why our hearts began to curl like fists

and we aimed them at ourselves, because after all,

self-love has always been the most important thing.

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[disclaimer: this is an original poem written by myself]

A Mathematical Love Poem