Här kommer en metafor jag skrev för novell-seminariet
Language is a body. It’s a living organism. It breathes, it smiles and it sings. It can be looked at as a whole or you can examine the different parts. It comes in many shapes and colours. You can change it into another but it is painful. As you try to change it you might end up chopping a bit of yourself off. You will always remember how it looked like from the beginning. It does change over time but you’ll always have the same skeleton. Language can brake but it can also be mended again. It is the base from which you look at the world. It is structured in a particular way for a reason. It has taken generations to evolve and has grown over time. As a body, language can be looked upon with different eyes, is it vulgar or is it perfectly normal? Is it beautiful or is it the ugliest thing? It can find itself belong to someone or banished from somewhere. It is the definition of a single human being, its borders and limitations. It is the details that make it, the shape of a shoulder, the pronunciation and rhythm of it. To master it can be a challenge for both toddlers and pensioners.