Trivia Teaser

In the world of internet slang, what does 'b&' mean?

Banned
Bye
Bed and breakfast
Birthday

Calling all emotions

13
Mar
2013
 

By Miranda

But which ones?

If you're standing at dawn, or sunset, on an apparently endless plain of saltbush* and red soil, with an occasional mulga punctuating the horizon and the hemisphere above painted by the sun's oblique rays, your emotional response to the scene will always be your own.

I may love and feel in awe of this magnificent emptiness while a biologist might object to the notion of 'empty' and someone who prefers a seaside break might dislike the whole prospect, finding the red sand no substitute for that of any other colour, only with waves breaking on it.

Or you might only be conscious of the loneliness of it all.

The Eternal Flame might move you to sorrow for the fallen or rage against that establishment which sent those serving to their sacrifice, or both.

The smell of cooking bacon, to me delicious enough to tempt the strictest vegetarian, may well be nauseating to someone with a different set of principles or upbringing.

My point is that all of these signals could be described as 'evocative' but there's no guarantee that they'll evoke the same responses in everybody, that the emotions provoked would necessarily be pleasant, or that only one set of responses is 'right' and, therefore, to be expected.

Which brings me to a series of nature documentaries I've seen lately and even, on one occasion, a news report from a reputable broadcaster, in which the narrator/adventurer/reporter finds her or himself in the midst of stirring events, scenery or people and witters**, "How evocative!".

Evocative of what? More information, please.

What is the most evocative thing for you? And what feeling does it evoke in you?
 
 
*Might be saltbush or bluebush
**Babbles pointlessly

Miranda

Image: Stephen L. Baxter 

30 Responses to

Calling all emotions

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mommyscat said:
March 13, 2013 at 12:44 PM

The most evocative emotion is the grief I feel when I hear of the death of an infant or small child. I gave birth and lost my first child when he was only 2 hours old. This is something that colours everything that I do no matter how much time has passed.

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said:
March 13, 2013 at 1:28 PM

"witters"...new one to me...love it!

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said:
March 13, 2013 at 3:06 PM

Watching the sun rise always 'fills me with awe'. The emotion just bubbles up inside of me at the wonder of living. (I really should get up early more often).

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said:
March 13, 2013 at 6:59 PM

@Jafa: I have a new Springer Spaniel pup who always wakes me at 5...you are welcome to borrow her.

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said:
March 13, 2013 at 7:45 PM

seeing more rain coming is an emotion we dont need lovely st john

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said:
March 14, 2013 at 1:10 AM

I love a sunburnt country by Dorethea MaKellar,it show Ausralia in ever light.It raises emotions in me about a wonderful place we live in.

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March 14, 2013 at 5:09 AM

Hearing a huge crowd of people join together singing - it could be a grand final crowd singing Waltzing Matilda, or, as I experienced, the audience at a Billy Joel concert all singing along with Piano Man. Hearing hundreds or even thousands of voices united in song reminds me that music goes beyond all those things that can normally separate us and bring us together, even if only for a short while.

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MikeT said:
March 14, 2013 at 7:24 AM

I so agree with your first scene. The red soil big sky country does fill me with a calming expansiveness that fine tunes the senses, at any time of day. However, someone that grew up in Delhi I was chatting to recently found it unnervingly quiet and lonely. Otherwise. The smell of an approaching rain storm (better if it's a southerly buster - sydney) after a very hot dry day. And on the opposite side of the environmental divide the smell of a two stroke engine evokes memories and peps me up.

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said:
March 14, 2013 at 4:50 PM

During the Queen's Jubilee Program, the host introduced a parade of the Queen's horses. The camera went to these beautiful ponies, impeccably groomed, with their handlers in period costume, and I was overcome with emotion- my breath caught, my eyes teared up and I felt very moved... I don't know why...

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March 14, 2013 at 10:44 PM

I agree with Jafa..a sunrise fills me with awe...especially when it is over the Ocean..nothing better!

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Krasher said:
March 14, 2013 at 11:30 PM

to mommyscat. my deepest sympathy. i know how you feel.

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March 15, 2013 at 4:01 PM

Sunrises and beautiful sunsets, a clear, starry sky, crashes of storms and lightning or a ferocious sea are the evocative moments for me. One of the most unifying places for emotion was the edge of the Grand Canyon at sunset...incredible and everyone was in awe! I agree with patchworkpiano about the massed singing and evokes fun when it's mostly adults singing kid's songs and TV themes.

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nan_j said:
March 15, 2013 at 5:34 PM

Exactly stitch instead of doom and gloom these are my favourite things. Sunrise, sunset etc now who wrote this lol

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said:
March 16, 2013 at 1:30 PM

Being the only person on a long beach feels profoundly lonely. Not necessarily in a bad way...

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said:
March 16, 2013 at 10:31 PM

The pride and warm/fuzzy joy and elation you feel when you watch your child perform on stage. (Okay, I'm really getting into this)

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said:
March 16, 2013 at 10:40 PM

Don't let me start on the myriad extreme feelings that you experience as a parent. You suffer their pain and joys with them and more. Their sadnesses and losses are torture, their thrills sublime.(Someone, stop me, please)

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Mojito said:
March 17, 2013 at 1:31 AM

I hear you Jafa. I am very emotional too, weddings, funerals, movies, books, music, anything that brings a memory to mind. And to mommyscat a (((HUG)))

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jonah said:
March 17, 2013 at 4:12 AM

One of the most beautiful sunsets to experience is to witness the sun setting in a sky with dark clouds over the sea. As the sun draws closer to the horizon, it lights up the clouds from underneath, creating an infinite number of shades of red and orange that lights up the evening sky which is reflected in the water and which words cannot describe. On such an occasion, I was filled with a mystical sense of awe and wonder that I lost track of my location in time and space. The beauty of the feeling that I experienced has stayed with me. It was a direct experience beyond conceptualisation.

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said:
March 17, 2013 at 10:08 PM

Hearing "The Last Post" at the Dawn Service at Villers-Brettoneaux would have to be the most powerful and moving experience I've ever had...bar none... surrounded by the ghosts of thousands...

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said:
March 17, 2013 at 10:12 PM

...and the feeling? Anger at the waste. Sorrow at the loss. Pity and compassion for those left behind.

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Xrosie said:
March 18, 2013 at 7:46 AM

Looks almost like home, although we have a few more Mallee. Just as dry here.

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gracie10 said:
March 18, 2013 at 1:01 PM

I agree with you on 'The Last Post' Stjohn, although I have never heard it at Villers-Brettoneaux. I think of some of the soldiers lying in unmarked graves in the fields of France. They still haven't gotten to come home ... I hope the poppies grow over them. I love to watch the sun set over the ocean on a quiet beach, it fills me with a sense of peace and wonder.

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March 18, 2013 at 2:10 PM

sorrow to me is a ladie friend of mine given two weeks to live , after getting married at xmas and thinking life would be great now , too many good people taken with this dreadfull diease , to me thats tragic

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March 18, 2013 at 3:14 PM

Watching sunrises and sunsets - beautiful.

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kragzy said:
March 19, 2013 at 11:43 AM

I'm with you Stjohn. I was with a small group at Lone Pine Gallipoli a few years ago and one of the ladies played guitar as we tried to sing And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda. None of us finished - tears everywhere, especially yours truly.

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kragzy said:
March 19, 2013 at 11:47 AM

On a happier note - I grew up near a railway line in suburban Sydney during the 50s and 60s. I grew to love steam engines. These days, any time I smell coal smoke my mind flashes back to my happy happy train-spotting days.

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said:
March 19, 2013 at 3:17 PM

Kragzy - that must have been a stunning experience, always promised myself I would get to the Dawn Service there one day...guess I'd better get cracking, though!

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said:
March 20, 2013 at 8:29 AM

Coal smoke evokes childhood memories for me too. We used to burn coal in our fireplaces when I was young. Not as romantic as a wood fire but cosy warm. The predominant feeling would be one of belonging- to a very large, often boisterous and unconditionally loving family.

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March 20, 2013 at 5:34 PM

Possums and the smell of eucalypts because it is etchhed in my mind from the moment I landed in the migrants camp in Bonegilla. When I feel stressed, I think of this magical time.

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RedRump said:
March 29, 2013 at 3:06 PM

I couldn't imagine what it would be like at Gallipoli or in France. I get very emotional at any dawn service on ANZAC day. Also the smell of coal trains, as I lived near the railway line, in the country, near Barellan.