This might be cliché for someone in my field, but I enjoy a good ampersand.
For starters, the ampersand is a beautiful letterform. Today, it is considered punctuation, but there was a time that the ampersand was treated as the 27th letter of the Latin Alphabet. It gets its shape from the Latin word “Et,” meaning “and,” and because these two letters can be mixed and remixed in so many creative ways, that it’s an artform, in itself.
Secondly, the term “ampersand” is fascinating. Birthed from antiquated grammatical rules, the practice for using a letter as a word, was to use the letter twice, with the phrase “per se” in between. “And, per se and,” later morphed into ampersand.
Finally, there is the very loaded meaning, coming from only one letter. To say “And,” is to make a pronouncement. On its own, it means nothing, so there is implied context. Wedding decor is littered with the mark—It speaks to a shared context of two thoughts: A joining together. Because of this shared context, the use of an ampersand suggests that there is more to come. We don’t end sentences on the word “And.” See? even just now, It’s unsettling. We don’t end on an incomplete thought. So, by replacing the punctuation in our internal dialogue with this one mark, we can shift our mindset from defeat, to experience points.
To sum it all up, I’ve been pondering on this letter, as a response to an experience. Last week, during my search activities, I missed out on an opportunity. It was right within grasp, but I made a decision that interfered with my ability to close. I could choose to build this into my internal dialogue, as a loss. Instead, I’m making the choice to move forward. My story isn’t over, and…
(there is more to come)