On loving vignettes

Why vignettes, you ask? It is the brilliance of the word as you say it – vignette. It is hard to pronounce the first time, if you are not au fait with French, but then you fall in love with the word. Vignettes are mysterious – they could be anything – something wine related? Definitely something exotic.

But it is simply life wrapped up in a small number of words – captured as a moment in time. Like a poem, a glimpse, an insight. They do not only need words. Memories are the soul’s version of the vignette and good photography is a vignette of colour and light.

I suspect I love the idea of them as they distil essence. You see, I am impatient and I prefer writing vignettes to prose that goes on and on. I get bored. And I like testing myself. I want to see if something as complex as life can be put down in a dash whilst not losing a shred of meaning. That’s not to say they are easy – they are not. Vignettes demand discipline and a keen eye. They are not flabby. They do not wander off.

Enough, I am now pushing my luck but I think you get the gist.

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