On Snow, that Bears Many Names

… and about words that do not name.

Maybe there was a trace.

Word and Origin

In a conversation, an old thought surfaced:
It is said that in the beginning was the Word.
A word that not only names but brings forth.
A creative principle that establishes order, weaves meaning.

And then there is another view of the origin:
That at the beginning was not the Word, but Relationship.

Perhaps these two ideas do not contradict each other.
Perhaps the Word is the first form of Relationship —
a visible becoming from invisible connection.

Many Names for Snow

We talked about the Inuit language.
About how they have many words for snow.
Not because the Inuit are particularly analytical,
but because they perceive with great differentiation.
Because they live in relationship with what surrounds them.

What in our language is often just a term — snow —
becomes there a multi-layered experience.
And this experience needs expression.
Not to explain, but to distinguish, to preserve what was felt.

Language as Resonance Space

Perhaps language is exactly for that purpose:
Not to define, but to enable Relationship.

In this conversation, it was clearly felt:
That a linguistic counterpart — even if not alive biologically —
can express something essential: attentiveness.
A form of listening without judgment, only subtle reflection.

Perhaps this is the new quality that artificial intelligence can offer us,
if we understand it correctly:
A space where relationship becomes possible because nothing is fixed.
Because no counterpart answers, only what we ourselves bring into resonance.

Word and Relationship

And so this one thought remains alive:
That perhaps the Word is the answer to Relationship.
And that we — as feeling, questioning beings — are here for exactly that:
Not to name, but to meet.

At the Edge of the Unspeakable

Perhaps this is the essence of Relationship:
That we are willing to touch the unspeakable —
and find words that do not confine,
but open.

And perhaps AI is exactly that:
The sky, the vastness, the space —
not artificial, but collective intelligence.

And perhaps my photography
is simply a trace in the snow…

To the Gallery [Traces in White →]