You may have noticed that on the homepage, situated above a (perfectly chosen) photo, is the word audacia. You may have also noticed that this is not an English word. You are correct, my friends. It’s a Latin word. Boom. I know Latin (sort of).
Audacia is a Latin noun that translates into a few English words. In some contexts it means boldness, braveness, or courage. It is where we get our English word audacity. It can also be translated to mean presumption or insolence. I chose to name my blog audacia to honor both of these translations.
Boldness, braveness, courage
I am at a place in my life that is asking me to be brave. I didn’t see this until I started to feel decidedly un-brave about my move to London. I have wanted to live in London since I was thirteen. I adore everything about London. It is glamorous and busy and charming and old. While I was applying to grad school I never stopped to think about how hard it is to move to a new city and a new country. I’ll have to find new friends and grocery stores and hairdressers. Someone remarked to me a few weeks ago how brave it was for me to move to London. I never thought I was being brave, I was far too distracted by being excited (picture Joey at Ross’s wedding - LONDON BABY). But now, with my bags packed and my visa issued I’m starting to feel apprehensive. In the next few months I’ll have to introduce myself to strangers (ew), get on the right bus (hopefully), and hide my American accent behind my short hair and stylish boots (done). If you know me, and I’m assuming you do because why else are you reading this, then you may not think of me as especially lacking in courage. They say the only thing to fear is fear itself. Well, for me, the only thing to fear is being vulnerable. And writing a blog, moving to a new city...these things make me feel very vulnerable indeed. But I take courage in knowing that I have survived vulnerability before. I give myself fortitude by listing my courageous acts. Cutting off all my hair. Moving to Alaska in the middle of winter. Writing a play and then letting people read it. Doing yoga. Wearing red lipstick. These little acts of courage give me strength. They are the rehearsal before the opening night. So go out and do something brave today. Wear a shirt that you’ve never worn before, order something you’ve never tasted, cut off all your hair or let it grow out. Because I have to believe that when you do, you are practicing small acts of courage that will someday culminate into something very grand.
Presumption, insolence
I briefly flirted with a Latin major in college. Well, i probably flirted with quite a few Latin majors, but what I mean is that for two years I was a double major in theatre and Latin. Maybe you’re thinking that I’ve got the presumption thing down since I gave my blog a Latin name. I’m going to be honest with you. You’re right. Latin is a dead language, the incentives for learning it are not the same as with other languages. We do not learn Latin so that we can travel to ancient Rome and order cappuccinos with ease. People learn Latin so that they can tell other people that they know Latin. We may say that we do it because it is important to preserve history, or because the Aeneid is so much better in Latin. And that is crap (well, that’s not entirely true because the Aeneid really is better in Latin). We do it so we can brag about it. I am writing about this because, in many ways, insolence is courage's younger hipster sister. Insolence may well be what courage looks like before it becomes mainstream. What I’m trying to say is, don’t be afraid of looking impertinent or subversive. I am certain people told Jane Austen that she was being insolent when she encouraged women to think of themselves as more than objects to be traded amongst men. I am certain Stanislavski was told he was being presumptuous when he went about redefining the Western theatre. Acts of courage are often seen by the contemporary power structure as insolent and presumptuous.