a visual dictionary for dreamers, wanderers, and nomads wistful
words
wander with me.
TRINITY HAMIC
preface
the beginning
It’s a sunny afternoon in 2009. I’m 8 years old. I perch on the edge of my mom’s bed, eagerly anticipating the contents of the mysterious box that has lain dormant in the back of my mom’s closet. She pulls out thick photo albums, rattling maracas, a colorful sombrero, and a hand knitted backpack.
With each item she unravels stories from her past- building latrines in a remote village, late night adventures in the jungles of Costa Rica, sun tanning on the soft white sands of a foreign beach. She tells me about staying in hostels with total strangers, riding in an underwater train, and seeing Michelangelo’s statue of David for the first time. That day, my heart stirred and an unfamiliar feeling creeped into my chest. Many years later, I finally put a word to that feeling.
wanderlust
Ever since th at day I’ve felt drawn to the mystery of travel. To seeking new places, new cultures, and new people. To soak my eyes and ears with the beauty of the world. So when I was given the opportunity to explore a topic through art, I knew deep down that I wanted to dive into the mystery of wanderlust.
the process
To kickstart the process I grabbed my camera and piled in a car with a few friends. Wanderlust goes hand in hand with spontaneity, so we took a random trip to the beach, with little planning in advance. It turned out to be one of my favorite trips I’ve ever taken. I discovered that there is something beautiful in going somewhere blindly and discovering new things along the way. I found that it gave me a rush and thrill but also a spike of anxiety. Because I was raised to have a plan whenever I go somewhere new, my brain rebelled against me and I felt that giving into wanderlust was wrong.
Actively wanderlusting helped me de-construct the wrong and right way of traveling and I felt freed to give into every thought, idea, or whim without worry. During the trip me and my friends stumbled upon awe-inspiring, lush places, gorgeous rainbows, and breathtaking moments. These experiences were indescribable, so I captured them with my camera. The urge to find words to speak to each of those moments enveloped me when we returned, so I dove into research about words.
It felt like discovering an unknown language. The words I discovered serve as a supplement to my own limited vocabulary.
They describe my experiences in more fulfilling terms.
the process
As I continued my research I decided to dig into the root of wanderlust- where does it come from, and how do people get it?
I found that it is connected to a gene variant that is commonly found in people groups who migrated to further areas of Europe and Asia. Getting curious, I checked my ancestry. Sure enough, I’m Scottish. My ancestors are some of the biggest migrators in European history. This brought me full circle to my mom’s stories. Her adventures in Costa Rica and Europe awakened those feelings of wanderlust when I was child.
It’s in my blood.
the result
After making these conclusions I decided to create my version of my mom’s scrapbooks. Each photo from my trip is paired with one of the words I discovered. I feel that in this way I pay tribute to my ancestry while expressing my experiences in my own way. I pay tribute to the wanderlust that runs in my veins.
he didn’t mean i love you
kefi
(n.) the spirit of joy, enthusiasm, high spirit, excitement and frenzy, in which good times and passion for life are expressed with an abundance of happiness, jubilation, and fun
petrichor
(n.) the scent of rain on dry earth
i closed my eyes, breathed in. breathed out. in again
i want to live another life in a time that’s not my own
anemoia
(n.) nostalgia for a time you’ve never known
nefelibata
(n.) “cloud-walker”; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not follow the conventions of society, literature, or art
psithurism
(n.) the whispering of leaves moved by the wind
nature’s gentle secret
dappled, otherworldly kisses
from a star
komorebi
(n.) sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees
wanderlust
(n.) the irresistable, incurable desire to wander
finest
globe trotting at its
featherless bipeds
mahpiohanzia
(n.) the disappointment of being unable to fly, unable to stretch out your arms and vault into the air, having finally shrugged off the ballast of your own weight and ignited the fuel tank of unfulfilled desires that you’ve been storing up since before you were ever born
sonder
(n.) the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own
they are not just characters in the endless script that is life
wood-nymph
nemophilist
(n.) a haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude
hygge
(n.) the cosy feeling you get when you are enjoying good life moments with your friends
charis-clerosis
kairosclerosis
(n.) the moment you realize that you’re currently happy— consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it is just an aftertaste.
nubivagant
(n.) moving among clouds
reeds sway as if bidding the cotton good day
with expectation of the day’s rebirth
breathless
súton
(n.) twilight; the end of something
gökotta
(n.) the act of rising in the early morning to watch the birds or go outside to appreciate nature
pure bliss at seeing the world made over
Printed by Office Depot, located in Anderson, South Carolina. All photography by Trinity Hamic.
