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What was before all the meaning?

A

Adolonius Ganz

Well-Known Member
Hi, my real name is not Zolang Green but I like this name anyway because of its sound, form and colors. I'd like to introduce myself with the question: what was before all the meaning? Well, since 2008 my life changed successively by continuously looking up the meaning of words I liked and used. In this process I started to realize what I missed all the time by just using the words without knowing exactly what they might mean. To this day I gathered a vast network of meaning which is carefully attached to words. Because of this network, an old problem got more potential: ambiguity and ambivalence, and a rather new problem evolved as well. I started to hear inconsistency in meaning more precisely. I guess what ever I do, I win and lose in the same time. In 2016 I wrote this poem:

The words I use and

the sentences I produce,

they are as they are

not just dry and crude.

Some of them are monstrous

as they span a horizon of meaning,

and some are just neat as they merge

what my mind must keep in.

To reflect this creations

before they volatilize

is an act of dignity

and evokes their pure beauty

and my tremendous surprise.

What I found

is a masterpiece of a brain,

to seek in vain,

but to create

with numbers and words

what I am,

and always was

in company of my memories.


To answer my question above I'd like to say, that my words are not necessarily connected to meaning. In most cases I work daily to find my order in meaning. There are words and there is meaning. I'm many things. That's how I want to introduce myself. Hallo.
 
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Welcome.
I like the sound of your user name too.
Maybe collecting words and their various meanings is a special interest?
 
I did something similar with the switch from using words mindlessly to looking up the details of them!

I also like to try to think of what the word represents and then view that separate from the word, in its own objective existence. The more I succeed, the freakier it feels! ;)
 
Fino said:
I did something similar with the switch from using words mindlessly to looking up the details of them!

I also like to try to think of what the word represents and then view that separate from the word, in its own objective existence. The more I succeed, the freakier it feels! ;)
Click to expand...
I know that too. Then I feel less alone because there are many things, like structures, communicating. Then I feel happy not to be alone in myself.
 
Language is a sort of living entity, changing almost daily as people's usage of it mutates and changes.
 
I learned words and how they go together before I started filling in what they mean. It's an ongoing process, filling in all the blanks as I go. Some meanings just don't stick, because they are too abstract/subjecive or too complicated/context dependent and I have to look them up again and again and/or remain confused about them at least some of the time....

Welcome to the site.
 
the_tortoise said:
I learned words and how they go together before I started filling in what they mean. It's an ongoing process, filling in all the blanks as I go. Some meanings just don't stick, because they are too abstract/subjecive or too complicated/context dependent and I have to look them up again and again and/or remain confused about them at least some of the time....

Welcome to the site.
Click to expand...
I know that pretty well. Even when I write things like the poem above, it‘s often not clear to me what it means. Now, 2.5 years later, I know it‘s about the process of giving me an identity again and again. I guess, like the meaning of words I look up my identity, and as I try to understand what comes up, I gape at the process how it is done.

Whenever I’ve listened to myself, telling somebody about my identity, to introduce myself, the identity is already created, like an echo in my head. In such moments, I‘ve never heared myself talking how I searched about what I‘m saying. The search seems to be beyond numbers and words, i guess. But identity is only in numbers and words. Unlike my self, which is created by feelings, identity is a social statement of my brain about itself in a spezific conext of time and space, through words and numbers. Today I tried to take account of this rather roughly. It‘s a mystery to me how it‘s done, then what I call „my identity“ it‘s rather vage. It‘s like I‘m in-between something which is searching and something which is creating in the same time, but too often with a weighting on the search, so I get confuesed, irritated, sometimes lost, overhelmed and luckily less common - end up in chaos. I can only write about this process of „forging meaning, building identity“ (Andrew Solomon) and the use of words and numbers as a masterpiece of a brain, because, if it’s happening properly - eighter I hear somebody else telling me her/his identity, or I hear myself as a result - I‘m often surprised, because it seems it all happend without my doing. But I can order it by meaning, form, sounds and produce echos of echos out of it. To bring order in my world happens always in the aftermath and in repose. If that is done properly, the resulting networks seem to be very sustainable. I love them and I need them very much. Those networks are who I am to my self, to the feeling of myself the most. But this I can‘t show nor tell anybody. There is simply no words and no language for that.
 
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Hi Zolang

welcome to af.png
 
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