marginalia Intensely Complicated!

A column by douglas abel

“Intensity.” It is one of “those words.” We can use it in a sentence. We are fairly sure we know what it means. But we would be hard pressed to define it exactly or to encompass all its meanings and nuances in our definition. Its significance is shifting and slippery—like so much of language.

“Intensity” certainly seems to involve some kind of large size or quantity. Something cannot be small in every respect and be intense. However, exactly what is big varies with the nature of the intensity. If we speak of intense heat, the temperature is high. If we speak of intense emotion, there is a large amount of love, or hate, or fear—however we might attempt to quantify those feelings. Intense competition, whatever else it involves, requires a significant amount of activity. Intensity, whatever it contains, or implies, or involves, is extreme. Indeed, there is a sense that something has to be close to the excessive to be “really intense.” Intensity does not just point to a great deal; it indicates almost too much. If there is a lot of room to spare, or a fair way to go, then the situation is not intense. However, this “size” of intensity does not mean breadth or extent. We somehow have big, but not large or wide. We probably would not talk about an “intense” hurricane, although you might talk about the intense winds in it. The hurricane itself would be “immense.” Intensity is limited in scope, but not in quantity of . . . something. It is energy and size confined or contained. With intensity, big things come in small(er) packages.

But what is the . . . something . . . that can be intense? It is not a thing, or an object. You can’t have an intense cow, or an intense rock. You can have an intense individual, but what does that mean? The intensity of or in that individual is perceived through what the individual does and how s/he does it.

Intensity, then, is a quality, or a set of qualities, that applies to actions, events, or situations. It is dynamic, even if temporarily motionless. It might be a tiger ready to spring, or a standoff with two fingers on two triggers. Silence can be intense, depending on what has just happened, or what is about to happen. But whatever intensity is, it is not calm, or serene. There may not be frenetic motion or action at any particular intense moment. Intensity can take the form of potential energy, not yet unleashed but ready at any time to burst into kinetic activity. And that bursting will happen in a very “intensely” focussed and determined way. Intensity has an aspect of fierce concentration. A laser beam is intense not just because its energy is high, but because that energy is directed onto a small area. Sunlight focussed through a magnifying glass is at its most intense when the focus of the converging beams comes to a pinpoint—and the paper starts to burn. When the beam is “out of focus,” the light energy is the same, in total, but the intensity is not there, and the effect is diminished.

Allied to this idea of focus is a sense of direction and/ or intent. Certainly, when we are talking about intense human actions and situations, there must be purpose. In an intense argument or battle or election, the intent of the intensity is to win, to change things. Somehow focus and purpose turn mere energy and size into intensity. An unfocussed gaze into the middle distance cannot be intense—although it can become so.

In keeping with the tendency to extremity, intensity implies the possibility of danger. All that energy in a confined space or restricted situation can explode, or burn up, or bore through if unleashed. For this reason intensity is often uncomfortable or discomfiting—especially if you are the person at whom it is directed and upon whom its pentup energy is concentrated.

In intense situations, the stakes are high. Intensity and importance are related. If nothing is at stake, and nothing really matters at the moment, it is difficult to generate or recognize intensity. In this sense, the concept of intensity seems to drift toward that of urgency. Intensity cannot be put off or ignored. A situation of “much ado about nothing,” is comic or ridiculous because there is energy and intensity with no reason for them. It is easy for such a situation to lose all focus and purpose and become a case of “madly off in all directions.”

So, intensity is not a single quality. Rather it is combination of two or more qualities or states, drawn together but not necessarily mingled. High energy and focus, for example, somehow remain measurably distinct, even though they happen, and work, together. Intensity is multi-layered, multi-faceted, multi-dimensional.

With this complexity, how do we show what we mean, or how do others know what we mean, when we use a word like “intensity”? Of the many possible meaning combinations, what reveals—or creates—the meaning we intend?

The answer usually given is “context.” But that word is in itself as difficult to pin down as “intensity.” What fac- tors or variables are involved in context—which again is a situation or event, and not a thing? First, there is everything that has been done and said immediately before the word is used. Then, we have the con(text)notative factors: tone, pitch, volume, range across phonemes and syllables, melody of expression, emphasis—which involves all of tone, pitch, etc., rate of speech, overall quality or resonance of voice, and physical gesture, distance and positioning. All of these “delivery” factors are coloured by relationships, history and expectations. Some of these elements may be manipulated deliberately and consciously; others may take shape without our conscious awareness, and may even be opposed to our conscious intentions. With all these factors shaping the “meaning” of a word like “intensity,” a word which already has multiple “dictionary” definitions, it is amazing that we can make sense and make our meaning clear at all. And all this must be weighed before we start to consider all the specific variables that may independently be affecting the listener as s/he receives our word, “intensity” and our other words in their complicated context. douglas abel is an actor, director, writer, theatre historian and voice and speech teacher. He finds writing for NorthWord intensely satisfying. He hopes you find the result equally so. lasha barbosa is a proud Northern Canadian Artist, who slays brain tumors and mental health on the side. "Bubble Pop" represents the ups and downs of life. Sometimes, life can get so intense it feels like it's blown up in your face. juanita barrett-breen writes, “I am a long time resident of Fort McMurray with childhood roots from NF. I am a mother of 3 boys. Writing for me is a blessed outlet.” nicole cormier has called Fort McMurray home for 22 years and is intrigued by the natural beauty the region has to offer. Through photography, Nicole has been able to capture the colours of the northern lights which are blind to the naked eye. As well as photography, Nicole enjoys painting with watercolours, acrylics, and oils. sorina doiculescu was born and raised into an artistic family in Europe. In her early age, after passing her second grade, she began writing poetry and prose while she was doing her homework. With a Bachelor’s degree in Design and Visual Art, now she is a dedicated artist in the Wood Buffalo community. robin elson has lived in Northern communities for most of her life and enjoys all that comes along with it. Along with a passion for her family and community, she enjoys reading, writing and painting. sara ordena loutitt, a nehiyaw âpihtawikosisân kîwêtinohk ohci (CreeMetis from the north), has worked as an educator for many years, teaching in rural and urban communities within Saskatchewan, Alberta, and the Northwest Territories. Her love for the land, language, and lifestyle of the North combined with a rock-solid passion to enhance the education system for all learners, Indigenous and non-Indigenous. To her, ê-cîhkêyihtâkwahki (these are very important/vital): Indigenous language revitalization, creative expression for truth-telling, and renewing the relationships with okâwîmâwaskiy (Mother Earth). Whether she is painting, beading, writing, singing, dancing, playing, and working, Sara expresses her love for the land, language, and life kâkikê (always). Mistahi nanâskomowin ekwa miyo-wîcêhtowin kahkiyaw awiyak (much gratitude and harmony to all). anastasia meicholas writes, “My exotic color palette and subjects are strongly influenced by my Bahamian heritage where constant sunshine and the bright blue ocean was never far away. Art has always been my outlet to cope with the stress and uncertainties of everyday life and at the same time, I use art to express some of my deepest joys. Art provides me with a safe and comfortable place to express myself and as I am constantly trying to interpret my world, exploring different ways of presenting my observations and interpretations without limiting myself to one medium, one style or a single process, I am constantly evolving. The pieces I create are drawn from inspiration and experiences and lessons learned, sprinkled with influences from the land of my birth an if anyone takes the time to peruse my work and pauses long enough to be stirred in some way, to wonder, to question, to simply feel... then I have succeeded in my work.” marty rempel writes, “I am currently a principal with Metro International Secondary Academy in Toronto but in my spare time I enjoy writing poetry, essays and short stories. My wife and I spend our times outdoors often staring at the night skies and wondering about the origins of it all!” john siiro writes short stories within the suspense, horror and science fiction realm. Originally from Thunder Bay, he is a veteran of the Canadian Armed Forces with several tours in Afghanistan and Africa. He currently resides in Edmonton. kimlyn stanyon is a local emerging writer who specializes in experimental magical realism. kevin thornton has over 25 short stories published in books, collections and magazines, as well as poems hither and yon. He dislikes but abides by the practice of third person biography, and is a fan of brevity. meghan whitmore writes, “I’m a nursing student and a mother and I believe that being creative is one of the best ways to express who lives inside you.” veronica wood is preparing to embark upon the vast territory of education as a music teacher. She is intrigued in combining faith and science fiction in writing, though at times some casual guitar play takes precedence. zachary wood is Ontario born but has lived in Fort McMurray for over a decade. He has been married for 3 and a half years and is the son of Dave Wood.

The complexity of “intensity” shows us that, however abstract or formal or theoretical or algorithmic we try to make it, language is not an abstraction, or an objective set of things, or a mechanism, or a list of rules detached from use. Language is activity, action and reaction, interaction. We say—or write—the word, “intensity,” along with other words at that moment, with a purpose. We want a specific response, a resultant action. If our language action fulfils the purpose by producing the desired response, or at least generates a response that makes sense “in the context” of our use of the words, then we have defined the word correctly. If the response is not the desired one, then we need to re-define and try again, by acting through speech.

The human activity called language is undeniably complicated, and immensely interesting! It is the marvellous, almost impossible activity that makes us most intensely human.

From Fort McMurray to Florida—kiran malik-khan is a national award-winning communicator, a TEDx speaker, and a social media specialist. She loves her family, words, poetry, and books; and is a strong advocate of diversity, equity, inclusion, and women's rights.

Fort McMurray based since 2012, tineesha mckay is an interdisciplinary visual, performing and literary artist. After performing and teaching dance for most of her life, Tineesha originally found artistic inspiration through movement. The evolution of her work has been inspired by her diverse heritage and adverse life experiences. Through writing, photography, design, and dance, Tineesha uses art to connect with herself and others.