Eloquent

books stacked on table

The Call: To Become More Eloquent — Jessica

Oh to be more eloquent! It’s a never ending quest — to write more beautifully, to photograph more elegantly; to say things that are not only easily understood but in a manner that is both pleasing and memorable. That is my goal. And I am far, far way from my goal. But I found something that may help.

I just picked up Microstyle: The Art of Writing Little at the library where I stumbled upon it quite by accident. I think that is what I miss most about libraries and bookstores in the age of Amazon: the serendipitous finding of a little gem hidden in the stacks and shelves. I just started it so I can’t really say much about it except that it is interesting and promises to be very useful.

The Response: Translucence, Elegance, Eloquence — Cheryl

Can a glass pitcher be eloquent? Can a photograph? Or a table? I think so. Eloquence is generally limited to the realm of words, but it has do with effectively using language with ease. Good design is about effectively using materials — one could say in an persuasive way. I might serve water from a pickle jar, but it won’t persuade me or anyone else that it’s a good vessel for the job. The big, bulbous jar may be stellar for storing pickles, but as a water pitcher, it’s just not eloquent. And that brings up an interesting question: does good design — and even good writing — depend merely upon the form of the finished product?

‘Tis the gift to be simple,
‘Tis the gift to be free
‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain’d,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.
— “Simple Gifts,” a Shaker Song by Elder Joseph of Alfred, Maine, 19th cent.