Dariko

Why has the whole world decided to hide that glamour and grammar are literally the same thing? For all the intrigued and out-of-step,there is a short explanation below:

Glamour is actually a Scottish alteration of the word "grammar". In the Middle Ages, the reading skill was so rare that scholars were associated with magic and the occult. In 18th-century Scotland, grammar's pronunciation (spelled gramarye) shifted to "glamor" to exclusively describe a magic spell or illusion. A century later, the novelist Sir Walter Scott popularized it while using it to describe a magical, alluring aura.

Nowadays, glamour is all about glitz, elegance, and appeal, but who could imagine glamour was invented by these tough guys?

P.S. All glamour girls should be smart and have high literacy level!

Even though my thesis is pedagogical rather than linguistic, unlike what I thought back in my freshman year, I still feel proud of what I have achieved. I have written more than three scientific articles, spent countless hours studying languages, gone through ups and downs, and I definitely deserve to graduate with honors, all because of the effort and sacrifices I have made over the last four years.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about a master's degree a little too much, and it’s giving me a headache. Right now, I have two options. The first is to stay at my alma mater in a city I know well, but I would have to study in German. The second is to try to enroll in a master's program at a university more than 3,000 km away from my parents to study in English.

The biggest obstacle is passing the entrance exams. For my alma mater, I need to pass a German exam, and I fear my dream university is still beyond my reach. Not to mention, the cost of living there would be much higher than my current expenses.

It is so complicated to wrap my head around choosing my future education; both options seem overwhelming. There are also some personal problems pushing me to stay. If I stay, do I just need to prepare for the German entrance exam, overcome my psychological block regarding the language, and keep learning it? Moreover, I would still learn English, which feels like a win-win.

This presentation is my second favourite that I have ever made for German course at university. Comparing Baroque and Bauhaus in German was surprising, such different vibes share same core ideas: bright colours, same goal (evoke feelings), play of light and shadow.

Zusammenfassend lässt sich sagen: Der Barock wollte die Seele durch Prunk und das Überladen der Sinne berühren, während das Bauhaus die Seele durch Ordnung, Struktur und Klarheit befreien wollte. Beide Epochen haben unsere Welt nachhaltig geprägt und zeigen, wie dynamisch und wandelbar der menschliche Geist ist.

To be honest, the best part of graduating from any educational institution is digital decluttering, and mine is still in progress. Today I suddenly remembered one of my favourite presentations for German class: Gustav Klimt's biography and his role in art and society.

Not to brag about my creativeness, but instead of using Google Slides, I created separate collages on Pinterest. Let me give you some advice: if you try to do the same, at least create a Google document with a list of links. My posts somehow got magically mixed up on my account.

Nevertheless, the presentation was quite successful. My German professor really appreciated it, so I decided: why not share it with you? By the way, German lessons with that professor helped remind me how much I like learning about art and its history.

Slides and text are in German:

Today I continued reading Steven Pinker's book The Language Instinct. Actually, there are many interesting facts that I would like to share with you, but the best way to learn something is to go and read the book yourself. Nevertheless, today I am talking about pidgin and creole languages.

To my shame, I had never thought much about them or learned much about them before; perhaps they simply weren't part of my field of study or self-education. The thing that shocked me most was the reason why many pidgins exist. Yes, pidgins have been used as basic trade languages (lingua francas) long before the transatlantic slave trade and the arrival of workers from the Philippines, Japan, Korea, Puerto Rico, and China to Hawaiian plantations, which began in the nineteenth century. In my opinion, the history of a language is important for understanding why it exists and what its speakers have endured.

Simply put, a pidgin is a simplified, improvised language used by groups that do not share a native language. It cannot initially be anyone's native language, because speakers create it while communicating with one another. Pidgins usually have simplified grammar and a more limited vocabulary than fully developed languages.

On the other hand, we have creole languages, fully developed natural languages that often emerge from pidgins. Children growing up in pidgin-speaking communities develop more complex grammar and a broader vocabulary. Creoles are not languages created only for survival or communication out of necessity; children from different linguistic backgrounds grow up together and need to discuss more complex and abstract ideas, emotions, feelings, philosophical questions, religious topics, and much more. Creole speakers are native speakers of their language, whereas a pidgin is generally used as a second language.

Every linguistic theory is easier to understand and remember with a good example. Let's talk about Nicaragua and two language systems: Nicaraguan Sign Language and the earlier signing systems that existed before it.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, Nicaragua's government opened the first schools for deaf children. Imagine that: before then, many deaf children had never regularly communicated with peers who had the same disability. Teachers tried to teach them lip-reading and spoken Spanish, but with limited success. The real communication happened during breaks, when the children developed their own signing system. This system, Lenguaje de Signos Nicaragüense (LSN), was more descriptive and lacked the complex grammar of a fully developed language.

However, there were younger children who learned this signing system from the older students. The younger generation added grammatical structures and made the language more systematic. As a result, a fully developed language emerged: Nicaraguan Sign Language, or Idioma de Señas de Nicaragua (ISN).

Peeling a pomegranate is a slow process; you don't want to crush the seeds. Nevertheless, you inevitably end up with at least your fingers covered in pomegranate juice. My association with pomegranates was subconsciously formed by their deep red, sticky, sweet, and at the same time tart juice — the heart; blood is the thing that runs through every human and is pumped by the heart.

Speaking of the linguistic aspect of the post, pomegranate in Georgian is ბროწეული (brotseuli). The word has a deep Kartvelian root. In Mingrelian, pomegranate is ბერწული (berc̣uli); in Laz, ბერწეული (berc̣euli); in Svan, ბროწეულ (broc̣eul). All variations are traced back to the Old Georgian word ბრწამლი (brcamli).

Back to the post's central idea, the role of the pomegranate cannot be overvalued in the Middle East. This fruit is a foundational cultural symbol representing fertility, prosperity, and divine blessing. The pomegranate is frequently celebrated in Georgian and wider Caucasian art, symbolizing the region's historical abundance.

There is a film that I want to watch called The Colour of Pomegranates by Sergei Parajanov. The filmmaker uses the fruit as a vivid metaphor for Caucasian cultural identity, poetry, and the cycles of life.

Turquoise is one of the gemstones that is highly valued in Georgian culture. The word piruzi (ფირუზი) came from the Persian firuze / piruze (فیروزه / پیروزه). In addition, the Persian word derives from the Middle Persian word pērōz, meaning "victorious."

Originally, the stone was considered a symbol of victory and good fortune. Turquoise was also used as protection against the evil eye in the Caucasus. Nowadays, both the color and the stone symbolize faithfulness, the majesty of the heavens, and divine purity.

There is a lot of traditional jewelry featuring turquoise. A prime example is Minankari (Cloisonné Enamel)—silver or gold jewelry using thin wire partitions filled with vibrant vitreous enamel.

Here are some examples:

Not long ago, I read Diaghilev's biography written by Sjeng Schejen. His life was vivid, full of superstitions, ups and downs, famous friends, and nemeses. There is no way that a short summary of his biography will be enough to make you understand the kind of man Diaghilev was—the founder of the Ballets Russes, a Russian art critic, and a ballet impresario. However, I still want to share some quotes from the book:

One must forge ahead. We must astonish and not be afraid of it; we must present ourselves all at once, showing ourselves completely, with all the qualities and flaws of our nationality.

Venice is the constant inspiration for our peace of mind. (Note: "Упокоение" can mean rest, peace, or final rest; given Diaghilev's deep love for Venice and his eventual burial there, it carries a profound, poetic weight)

We don’t just live; we have a terrible craving to live, as if without these efforts our life will simply cease.

Art—at least human art—is not bird song, after all; first and foremost, it is work. A thing must absolutely be well-made.

I will not, of course, pursue extravagance, but changing my appearance is something I consider too petty and beneath me. I will be as I was, and that is that. If need be, I will even walk around in rags.

Diaghilev may not be as famous as before, but nobody can stay ignorant of his personality and art.

It has been five hours since I started editing my bachelor's thesis, and there are still a couple of sections that need rewriting. If I leave it until tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara advised, it probably won't be submitted tomorrow at all.