Metaphorically Speaking

I am fascinated by metaphors. I am fascinated by the comparisons people draw, so often between two seemingly dissimilar things and suddenly, by that comparison, those things are made alike, deeper meaning is drawn. Annie Dillard's essay Seeing beautifully discusses the ability to see and conveys the process in such vivid language and images-- obviously, the words are as important as the vision in metaphors. She says, "Seeing is of course very much a matter of verbalization." If you are unable to convey what you see in words, what is the point of writing down an image of experience?

My friend Julie and I will sometimes send each other little metaphorical gems that we find in our various readings because they delight us and enrich our soul somehow. I'm not sure exactly how I create metaphors or pretty, strange imagery, but she certainly encourages me to stretch and aim to craft images that are unusual and fresh. I recently began an essay that discusses my inability to "get" modern art--

I think I'm the canvas modern art is painted on, and [those who understand it] are the trendy silk curtains hanging in the gallery-- the curtains who hang there and study modern art all day, but I can't see the painting since it's painted on me, painted over my eyes.

True, any creativity was probably influenced by the fact that I was literally falling asleep with my fingers on the keyboard, and severe sleep deprivation seems to have provided me a similar aesthetic experience perhaps as opium-influenced writers of the past. But it is rather thrilling to be able to craft something artistic and an arguably beautiful picture using words and images that may not have anything immediately to do with the subject at hand.

The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff. --Dillard

There is a certain amount of care that goes into drawing successful comparisons, however. It is difficult to force a metaphor, though it is very easy for a metaphor to sound forced. Mostly I try to "keep my eyes open" and let the inspiration wash over me when least expected, when the metaphor is not intended.

The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam.

The word metaphor derives from the Greek, meta + pherein, which is "to bear." It is a lovely image in itself, picturing the weight placed on words as they carry a meaning beyond their given definitions. They groan and creak under the task, uncomfortable and suspicious, but wink with understanding, and a secret smile threatens to break.