Using an example of beautiful sentences full of glowing words that get butchered by client managers, I can empathise. Like Donna, words for me are like a breath of one’s soul — reading back a sentence or paragraph that one has just created and that ‘sings’ is indeed an almost epiphanic and certainly rapturous* moment.
It’s not about ego-stroking; it’s not about puffing oneself up with false pride… it’s about recognising a gem, a diamond, a sapphire, when one emerges God-breathed from one’s fingers or mouth.
And it’s the sadness when you either see someone else butcher it, or else you have to ‘cut’ it yourself because it just doesn’t fit. There is no greater pain for a wordsmith than to see your ‘word children’ die.
Technorati: Donna Papacosta
* perhaps not in the full, biblical ‘Book of Revelations‘ context, though…