Moved to tears

I can cry for any reason. I’ve cried at everything as insignificant as ads, and as important as heartbreak. I am moved by all forms of media; film, television, songs and books. I cry in galleries. The one thing I rarely cry from is physical pain, not because I’m hardcore, but because it feels easier to process by screaming profanities. Crying seems more appropriate for releasing whatever feeling is being held inside of myself.

The reason I bring this up is that I have been reading a lot of things that have moved me to tears recently. I’ll go into the books themselves in more detail in my monthly roundup, but I often wonder what it is in things that moves me to tears. I think it has to feel relatable, and remind me of something that makes me emotional in any kind of way. I can cry in happiness, sadness, frustration, exhaustion, or any combination of these feelings and others.

I think that describing and depicting the situations that trigger this kind of response is trickier than it seems. It’s one of those things that is deftly woven into a narrative or piece of media, and then you’re feeling that familiar prickle at the corner of your eyes before you know it. I think all of the best art is that which makes you feel something, anything. I am a long and loyal fan of Tracey Emin. Her art has always spoken to me on a basic level, but it wasn’t until I heard her speak in a BBC4 documentary on her affinity with Edvard Munch that I understood why she had always resonated with me. She said (and I’m badly paraphrasing because the documentary isn’t available on the iPlayer anymore) that she has suffered in being someone who feels every emotion acutely, but she is grateful for being the way she is, and she has felt and lived life at every extreme.

I have known many people in my life who cannot express themselves and their emotions, and seem to be to be living half of a life. Even though some people have made me feel as if my emotions are gauche and embarrassing, I am blessed to have found people who celebrate my most basic quality. One of my friends told me recently that she loved how I would probably celebrate how she hung out her washing, and another told a recent friend that she had better get used to my hyperbolic style of complimenting those I love.

I am also curious as to the books that have made others cry and why they think that they did. Please feel free to get in touch and share if you have any that you can think of.

P.S. Speaking of tears, today is six years since Ireland voted to repeal the eighth amendment, granting legal abortion in the Republic for the first time. While many people still have to travel for their basic right to healthcare, the step that we took that day and the memory of the tears I shed listening to the results in the square of Dublin Castle will never leave me.

It’s Not Me That’s Crying It’s My Soul - Tracey Emin