i want to kiss her.
the personifcation of the feminine ideal- the gibson girl
(and my next tattoo)
I love words. Playing with them; turning them inside out; back to front.
A semiotic sorceress of sorts.
My name is Keren. Growing up my parents told me it meant beautiful- which is a nice sentiment- but it’s not exactly the direct translation. Keren-Happuch is the Hebrew root: horn of animal, precious box of eye ointment. I use that description as an introduction at parties sometimes. Thus it sort of fits that I start my blog in the same vain.
In Biblical times eye ointment would be the equivalent of today’s mascara. Keren- Happuch was Job’s daughter. A daughter born after decades of trials and tribulation. Her sisters were Jemimah and Keziah meaning dove like and cinnamin-smelling respectively. My favourite part of this story is that we discover they are the most beautiful women in the land; not from mirror, mirror on the wall; but with words. With names.
Dove-like nature; sweet-smelling; and aesthetically pleasing.
Alternatively, Keren, is a term found in a Japanese theatre form known as Kabuki. To the connoisseur- it is the lowest form of theatre. It is an art of trickery - trap doors and revolving stages.
I’m telling you all this because I’m new to this. I journal- I don’t blog. And I’m still not exactly sure what the difference is. When I read blogs I feel like I’m falling through someone’s very beautiful trap door. Revolved out of their real life into their glamourous persona. An internet alter-ego.
My name is Keren. And I like words. And stringing them together. Contorting; trickery; performance; semiotics; reflection; connection; honesty; beauty.