Thank you, KStew. I’d just like to say that, briefly. Queer women the world round sort of cocked their heads like curious RCA dogs when they found out you were dating a girl. I’m not sure if I can endorse you as an actress or as a writer (although your paper on artificial intelligence was as surprising as it was head-cocking), but the bottom line is that every out A-lister is a win for the gay community, even if you don’t mean it as such. In fact, I think your very insouciance on the topic was refreshing and beneficial. We certainly need the Ellen Pages and Jodie Fosters of the world to make big gestures and speeches, but we also need your irritated, nonchalant shrug when the topic of your sexuality is raised in interviews. So, thank you.
Now, on to the word of the day: Diptych.
A reviewer of your new movie (I’m too lazy to find the link) also taught me a new word — diptych. I’m a logophile, so I’ll take as many new words as I can get.
Here’s the definition:
Used metaphorically, a diptych is anything with two matching parts.
Use it in a sentence
This makes me think of the diptychs contained within my life, the inevitable Part 1, followed up with an unexpected but somehow equally inevitable Part 2. They may be distinct and different, and yet they share a theme, they hinge one upon another, past connected to future, pain connected to healing, beginning connected to end.
The thing about a diptych is that either half can be taken as a complete whole. But the two halves hinged together make even more sense. They lend context to one another, they support one another.
They complete one another.
Why do I feel like I’m standing on the hinge of my diptych, waiting for the second half to appear?