Languages have always fascinated me. In my life, I have come to appreciate the art that language truly is. There’s portraits that lie behind pronunciation; colors in the midst of constants; styles woven by syntax. The logistics of linguistic structure form an eloquently strong building that houses imagination, communication, and fellowship. At the very core, a language is what can mold thought and glue communities.
Yet, each language has its own art museum, with its own mood and beauty. I’ve had the opportunity to enter into five linguistic realms so far, and English is the one I find my home in. I grew up speaking it, playing with it, and abusing it. I formed friendships with English, and created borders from linguistic barriers with English. I learned through it, and thought by the molds of English.
But then came the time when the portal to new language opened. I first heard German as a little girl growing up with European immigrant grandparents. This new form of noises and enunciations frightened me at first, but soon a fire of intrigue exploded in my little heart. I wanted to know how these new consonants and seemingly fragmented words created meaningful bits of information. It was different than my language, and no matter how closely they could translate word-for-word, I knew there was parts hidden in German that could never come close to proper translation. I wanted to feel these treasured emotions, and experience these concealed messages.
As this intrigue grew, I was excited to take the offer of learning Spanish in my school. Yes, the past 8 years of learning Spanish has been difficult, but it has taken me on a journey of learning more than just linguistic structure. Past the fascinating aspects of grammar that Spanish holds, the emotional undertones that set the mood of speech opened a new dimension of both thought and meaning. In this open door, I explored new lands of linguistic definition and began to paint with new colors of thought. It made me more creative, and expanded the borders of my emotions.
The same happened when I began to learn Greek this year at school. The dimension of Konai Greek is formative, and organized. It’s clean and clear, a decisiveness I have never even come closed to witnessing before in English. The same is with German, which is another portal I have traveled into this year. These two new explorations are both unique and euphoric. And I have found them to be building new colonies in the uncharted territories of my mind. They are forming new parts of myself that I am excited to adventure in.
But I mentioned there are five linguistic realms in my life. I have found art in the four already written of, but the last one I have come to learn is the most artistic of all. It surpasses all barriers of confusion and misinterpretation. It is not constrained by syntax nor confined by pronunciation; it is not broken by the challenges of human communication.
This last language in my life is the language of love, and it is by far the most powerful, impactful, beautiful, and honest form of expression I have encountered yet.
