I am made of stories, music, and things fantastical.
contemplating my tendency to be very particular about certain word spellings, which is, on occasion, based on regional bias and force of habit, but more so on the principle of the accuracy with which a spelling’s aesthetic connotes its definition.
take, for example, “gray” vs “grey”; the mere appearance of the “a” irks me on a level I couldn’t possibly articulate. The phonetic result is the same, certainly, as with most commonly-accepted variations; and yet, “grey” seems to evoke the exact experience of the colour itself, whereas “gray” looks to me like the go-to onomatopoeia for an old man’s wet hacking cough.
The aforementioned “colour” is another good example. “Color” looks like a sorry excuse for the sensory charge it defines. It’s lacklustre. Fails to capture the aesthetic theatre that comprises the very core of its meaning. Devoid of flavour and valour. Dreamt up by a mollusk, who, due to being a mollusk, almost positively has no concept of language, or etymology, or literacy, for that matter, and therefore has no business designing words. why is this mollusk making our words why are we using them