There is this absolutely beautiful art project I follow, called the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. The artist creates words. Words to describe deeply intimate emotions. He gives name to torment, “and suddenly tangled emotions fall neatly into place and with that quiet word, you can breathe.”
He writes, “I think the act of naming something implies, very simply, that you’re not alone. We give names to things so we can talk about them. Once there’s a word for an experience, it feels contained somehow—and the container has a handle, which makes it much easier to pick up and pass around. Kinda comforting.”
n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.