Reya drifts through the world like a pale moon over a still Kyoto canal—unhurried, reflective, and quietly luminous—her name said simply “RAY-uh,” as if a single plucked koto string were let loose in night air; she is, by one telling, a Sanskrit-rooted vessel of lakshmi, ‘wealth’ and ‘grace,’ by another, a Greek echo of Rhea who once cradled Olympian thunder, and, by a third, a Hebrew companion whispering “friend,” which rather broad résumé may explain why modern statisticians keep nudging her up the U.S. charts from the contemplative 900s of the 1980s to a present, almost urbane, perch in the mid-600s—proof that even in data, elegance occasionally wins a popularity contest. Associations pool around her like ink in a sumi-e wash: she shimmers with the sleek line of a ray of light, carries the regal hint of the Spanish reina, and yet retains the wabi-sabi humility of something handmade, perhaps a porcelain tea bowl mended with gold. One imagines her bearer as someone who knows how to pause, how to let silence claim its proper acreage, and yet who can, when required, summon the mild electric crackle that turns an ordinary room brighter; after all, a name that balances goddess, gold coin, and best friend is unlikely to settle for purely ornamental duty.
| Reya Sunshine - |