joel’s metaphors and stuff

i do a lot of work (and dancing around really talking about stuff) through utilization of metaphors.  i have a few that i . . . kind of ‘own’ in the sense that . . . i feel like they help me better understand myself and . . . basically everyone else, too.

* * *

the cage:  cage imagery often flirts with my subconscious.  the cage can be anything that limits potential or perceived freedom.  some of my cages include:

-fear of failure: i often don’t take risks i would encourage others to take.  i balk at approaching publishers in regards to my writing, and i have a hard time applying for jobs that i want because i do not want to face potential rejection.

-bad knees: when my knees and i don’t get along, i can feel caged.  sometimes i just wanna go out and (try to) yam on every sorry sumbitch on the court, but i just can’t do it.  i am immensely frustrated when i can’t move like i want, when i feel caged by my own body.

the cage metaphor works quite nicely with bird imagery, which leads to

bird imagery/flight:  get out of that cage!  i’m a sucker for freedom – for choice – almost to a fault.  i instinctively bristle at rules.  as a teacher, my main goal was to present the widest scope of how literature and, on a greater scale, how the human heart beats.  i wanted my students to have the choice to look at both sides of an argument, to make their own decisions, etc.

the cave:  not my idea, by about 2,500 years.  within the cave allegory, i tend to play with shadows and light.

the cave allegory/imagery also fits in nicely with freedom/choice – i love the new old spice commercials.  i’m a sucker for under armour and overly-expensive, custom made british shirts (whaddup, gatsby?)

i choose to enjoy that shadow.  i know it’s empty and doesn’t translate to who i am and will be, but it’s fun because it’s a choice.

‘joel, you sure sound intellectually smug at the moment.’

i still stare at shadows/myself in the mirror at the gym in those tight under armour shirts, too (and, c’mon.  i look great, especially when the lighting is directly overhead and you can’t tell how thin my hair is).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s