Apercœur
the openness of heart, particularly in embracing people’s inherent nature beyond differences.
apercœur
/‘apəkɔr/
noun
the openness of heart, particularly in embracing people’s inherent nature beyond differences.
For eg. “Sarah's apercœur made her a beloved advocate for unity in her neighbourhood”
Combining "Aperto" from Italian (open) and "cœur" from French (heart), Apercœur reflects the openness of the heart, embracing individuals' inherent nature beyond differences. It is the quality or state of genuine, valid, and deep understanding & perception of an individual.
However, it works both ways. Apercœur also signifies a profound 'trust' in someone that allows one to reveal their authentic self, transcending surface differences and inviting them to embrace one's true nature.
*
An honest conversation
It’s almost sunset and the light is fragile but it’s all I have. All the muscles of my will are holding my terror to ask her.
‘May I?’ I ask, raising my trusty 35mm film camera, never not heavy in my hand.
Amidst the rush down Portobello Road, I’m asking her if I could see her.
I spend moments peering through the viewfinder, training my lens on her as she gazes straight into the lens. And, for a moment, at that gaze, I am happy to forego my future, and postpone indefinitely, this dream in suspended fire. Her eyes steal what light remains in the sky and the pacific blue in them reaches all its superlatives, revealing trust. Trust, that I am grateful for.
It’s one thing to be looked at and another to be seen and she trusts me to see her.
I depress the shutter and her face glows as the camera gasps. Her face now on celluloid, a canvas for an honest conversation, awaiting development.
When the photo comes to life, I’m sure, if she’ll look closely, she’ll see her eyes, drunk on confession, beholding both me and the world, and the honesty resting gently on her features.
And it’s maybe then, she’ll see what I have always seen, what I will forever see - her. And it’s maybe then, she’ll realise what I mean when I say the camera always feels heavier in my hands than it should.
Seeing people is not an easy task.
***
This was originally submitted for Oneg and James' challenge after getting tagged by Mackenzie. But I failed that challenge, so thought might as well use the story that came out of it for this challenge because it's managed to stay within me. Hope that explains things to who's already read this before.
About the Creator
Mesh Toraskar
A wannabe storyteller from London. Sometimes words spill out of me and the only way to mop the spillage is to write them down.
"If you arrive here, remember, it wasn't you - it was me, in my longing, who found you."
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More stories from Mesh Toraskar and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Crying on the Circle Line
May 1. "May I begin?", you ask yourself, out loud, before you started writing this. But you know there is no choice. Elsewhere in the city, it is bank holiday Monday. A spirited rebellion takes flight as people abandon their Monday obligations, filling up parks, pubs, bars and dance floors in a vibrant migration like of butterflies bewitched by their favourite May blooms.
By Mesh Toraskar12 months ago in Fiction
Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storm5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (17)
Beautiful, lyrical writing. The camera gasping - just a great image.
This is marvellous. You have such a way with words Mesh and such a distinctive writer’s voice. “It’s one thing to be looked at and another to be seen” is so true and well said. I just adore your writing. Congrats on top story!
"And it’s maybe then, she’ll realise what I mean when I say the camera always feels heavier in my hands than it should." As someone who loves to take pictures, I feel like you captured this flawlessly. I've always enjoyed photography because I love showing people how beautiful I find them.
Great way to repurpose your writing. I love seeing wonderful words in use. And, yes, looking at someone is easy, but "Seeing people is not an easy task." Congratulations on Top Story!
Truly evocative
Brilliant job!
🎉🥳👏 TS!
That was a great idea. Have to admit, I thought I it was a real word at first, and was confused at what challenge. Duh. This was a brilliant idea. Congrats on the TS.
Wow! This is such a beautiful piece with wonderful language. Congrats on top story!
Congratulations on your Amazing Top Story🎉📝😉✌️
A beautiful story for a beautiful word. Well done, Mesh.
‘Her eyes steal what light remains in the sky and the pacific blue in them reaches all its superlatives, revealing trust. Trust, that I am grateful for.’ Well holy shit that’s beautiful. And I especially loved this micro dose of prose because I’m a photographer. Some ancient cultures believed a photograph could steal your soul. I, on the other hand, think all photographs are self portraits of the photographer, regardless of the subject. It could be another human, a pet, a wild animal, a landscape. Doesn’t matter. But when photographing another human, it becomes a bit of a collaboration. ‘Seeing people is not an easy task.’ No, it’s really not. It takes a huge amount of self-awareness, so you’re not projecting your own crap onto others, which is what we all unconsciously do until we confront our own darkness. And that’s the path every artist must take. So this could be about writing as well. Writers need to take a good look in the mirror before trying to write characters with depth. ‘Combining "Aperto" from Italian (open) and "cœur" from French (heart), Apercœur reflects the openness of the heart, embracing individuals' inherent nature beyond differences. It is the quality or state of genuine, valid, and deep understanding & perception of an individual.’ Such a lovely word and definition. It goes deeper than empathy. Because people only feel empathy for others when they perceive them as being in the same boat, or even worse off. Ever notice that? We need more apercœur in the world for sure. Even for those we perceive as better off. We need to see people beyond the superficial. Thank you for this. 🤍
Ohhh i see what you did! I was confused for way too long. 😅 Absolutely wonderful word, and you have to tell me how to make the etymology image! I like the edits you made, too. Feels more polished, not that the OG wasn’t… and it still is one of my favorite stories 😊💕.
Gosh, you have such a way with words! This was truly beautiful!
No, it's not. But it's worth the effort.
This is excellent, Mesh. Well done.
“I depress the shutter and her face glows as the camera gasps. Her face now on celluloid, a canvas for an honest conversation, awaiting development.” I want to frame these words. Remarkable. The camera gasps—this is objective correlative at its mastery. And I have no words for the beauty in that next line. On the whole, I’d say you won, lol! But yes, not entirely fair, as I am sure you spent at least 30 mins, though I suspect more on this. I don’t care though; it’s absolutely stunning. I love how the theme of being seen is taken literally and metaphorically here, the camera being the actual conduit, yet the people behind each side are the real interpreters. A subtle device, but one I feel is perfect for this story. Ugh. So good. My brain cannot bring the correct words to text to tell you how much I love this. 👏👏👏❤️❤️❤️