There was an interesting question on the conlang group today that I wanted to respond to. But as I tend to leave long comments, I decided to add this to my own page, and maybe make a condensed version for the conlang post so I don't come across as a blabber mouth. The question was asking why you conlang. (Conlang means to 'construct' or invent your own language). Here's an answer I'm working on:
I started conlanging when I was a little kid building brightly painted 'countries' with broken bricks, twigs and mud in the yard. I desperately wished to travel to far off lands, such as India, Egypt, Japan, Israel, Italy, France, Arabia, Indonesia, etc... My painted mud creations and invented alphabets made me feel like I was really at the other side of the world. I played with matches for exotic festivals, being very careful my parents didn't find out. I like sci-fi on occasion, but my languages have never been influenced by it ...or by Tolkein, though I understand that Tolkein was an exceptionally creative man, through posts I've read about him on the internet. Perhaps there's a bit of the social anthropologist in me, since my interests revolve around world cultures, philosophy and their art. Another strong pull to languages is my love of systems. I might have become a mechanic, biologist, or physicist as well. As years go by, my curiosity and involvement with systems deepens. I relate to what James posted. It seems to have held true in my case these many years, that the journey takes precedence over the destination. While Tapissary has sat comfortably as a completed language several times during its existence, it gets a grammatical transfusion every so often, to keep the journey in motion. The irony is that my search for the exotic has led me full circle back to my own roots in English. It's not surprising that I came up with a cyclic grammar. I am fascinated with the invisible elements of language. For many years, I've been infusing English with a system that spotlights the physicality and effect of time. I'm thinking of 5 trials: 1. How far can I go beyond the confines of English without crippling it? 2. How much discreet grammar may I add to these 'English' patterns so as to describe Tapissary? 3. Keeping it balanced, so that the grammar doesn't become more 'interesting' or 'central' than the communication itself. 'What' is being said is as important as 'how' it is being said. 4. Keeping the forms simple for linguistic economy. 5. Allowing just enough impracticalities and hypocrisies in the grammar to keep the system spicy.
I started conlanging when I was a little kid building brightly painted 'countries' with broken bricks, twigs and mud in the yard. I desperately wished to travel to far off lands, such as India, Egypt, Japan, Israel, Italy, France, Arabia, Indonesia, etc... My painted mud creations and invented alphabets made me feel like I was really at the other side of the world. I played with matches for exotic festivals, being very careful my parents didn't find out. I like sci-fi on occasion, but my languages have never been influenced by it ...or by Tolkein, though I understand that Tolkein was an exceptionally creative man, through posts I've read about him on the internet. Perhaps there's a bit of the social anthropologist in me, since my interests revolve around world cultures, philosophy and their art. Another strong pull to languages is my love of systems. I might have become a mechanic, biologist, or physicist as well. As years go by, my curiosity and involvement with systems deepens. I relate to what James posted. It seems to have held true in my case these many years, that the journey takes precedence over the destination. While Tapissary has sat comfortably as a completed language several times during its existence, it gets a grammatical transfusion every so often, to keep the journey in motion. The irony is that my search for the exotic has led me full circle back to my own roots in English. It's not surprising that I came up with a cyclic grammar. I am fascinated with the invisible elements of language. For many years, I've been infusing English with a system that spotlights the physicality and effect of time. I'm thinking of 5 trials: 1. How far can I go beyond the confines of English without crippling it? 2. How much discreet grammar may I add to these 'English' patterns so as to describe Tapissary? 3. Keeping it balanced, so that the grammar doesn't become more 'interesting' or 'central' than the communication itself. 'What' is being said is as important as 'how' it is being said. 4. Keeping the forms simple for linguistic economy. 5. Allowing just enough impracticalities and hypocrisies in the grammar to keep the system spicy.
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