You’ve now come to a portico – the entrance hall to waywardwanders.com. What you will find inside is anyone’s guess; we certainly aren’t sure what to expect, nor exactly where this grand experiment will end up months or even years from now.
This site is wholly, without any misgivings, dedicated solely to words and those rather useful things they create: sentences, paragraphs, stories, novels, poems, essays and as is often the case utterly nonsensical and copiously enamored non sequiturs of the most tittering, chortling, cackling, jubilant, exultant and guffawing kind.
The principal ticklish parts are under the heading “Ramblings,” where the most recent updates reside. Please remember to enjoy yourselves, because if you are not enjoying then what really is the point of being? Ontology aside, we prefer to giggle much more than fret.
So, without further ado, welcome to waywardwanders.com, the journey begins here.
If you were a portico what would you look like? Would you amaze future archaeologists with your perfectly spaced Doric columns surrounding a well-lit naos, the inner sanctum of your temple consecrated to lost memories and ages past?
Or would you proclaim yourself a stoa of classical mastery, replete with covered walkways and acanthus-leaf Corinthian capitals, where merchants both itinerant and local could spread their wares for hours of barter and the appreciation of tea?
Would you make the prodigious claim that you rival even the great colonnades of San Pietro, with all-encompassing Ionic arms sweeping up the vertiginous masses into its Universal Bosom. Charlemagne and Constantine act as sentinels, could you summon such brilliance into your corner of history?
You may prefer to function as a simple foyer: a thin wooden coat rack, shoe mat and single 60-watt fluorescent light your claim to architectural fame.
Some porticos exist purely to provide shaded cover from the sun’s midday wrath, while others hide whispered secrets of illicit love and revolution.
Since 1617, the porticos of Sultanahmet mosque in Istanbul have issued worshippers within its hallowed walls to face east toward Mecca and prostrate themselves before Allah in prayer.
A portico is in essence a gateway, an entrance, a crossroads between outer and inner spaces – whether to a living room, a shrine dedicated to Apollo, the inner chambers of Monticello, a walkway to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, a small columned mihrab leading to the quiet spaces of the musalla or the 666 columned Portico di San Luca in Bologna.
Stand before any doorway, it doesn’t matter whether it’s open or closed, and imagine what is within. The moment you step across the threshold you are taking a journey down some kind of rabbit hole. It might lead you to a home-cooked Turkey dinner on Thanksgiving, a beer-stained couch filled with your friends screaming at Saturday afternoon football, a caravansarai smelling of camel dung or into the waiting arms of a welcoming lover, poetry dripping like saliva from their eager lips.
A portico takes you places.
You’ve now come to a place, a pleasurable place that we hope leads you down roads you’ve never expected to travel.
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Pronunciation: por·ti·co (pôr`tĭkō)
Part of Speech: Noun
- A porch or covered walk, consisting of a roof supported by columns, often at the entrance or across the front of a building; colonnade.
C.1600, from It. portico, from L. porticus “colonnade, arcade,” from porta “gate” .
Port – “Gateway,” O.E., from O.Fr. porte “gate, entrance,” from L. porta “gate, door.”
Porticoed – Adjective
Access, aisle, ambulatory, aperture, arcade, artery, avenue, cloister, colonnade, colonnette, column, caryatid, communication, conduit, connection, corridor, covered way, defile, entrance, entrance hall, entranceway, entry, entryway, exit, ferry, ford, foyer, galilee, gallery, inlet, interchange, intersection, junction, lane, lobby, narthex, opening, outlet, overpass, pass, passage, passageway, peristyle, pier, pilaster, pillar, porch, portal, post, propylaeum, stoa, telamon, threshold, traject, trajet, underpass, veranda, vestibule