Meet Me at the Metaphor

Artists possess a unique superpower: the ability to create metaphors.

Through metaphors, we foster deep connections. The works of art we create are more than objects; they are vibrant worlds in which our imaginations can build meaningful community.

Pablo Picasso, The Old Guitarist (Blue Period; 1901–1904)

Picasso painted The Old Guitarist during his Blue Period (1901–1904). Little did he know that more than eighty years later, a young boy would visit the museum year after year, captivated by the mystery of the artist’s initial composition. Hidden beneath the dry oil brushstrokes lies an earlier painting that Picasso began before shifting his focus to the seated guitarist.

That young boy was me.

The Old Guitarist remains a timeless masterpiece. It was through this artwork that I first connected with Picasso. While a biography could provide the facts of his life, it was before this canvas in the museum that I truly encountered his heart.

The painting first resonated with me as a child on a third-grade field trip, but its meaning has morphed over the years as it opened the door to a deeper understanding of Picasso’s story behind the piece.

Metaphor: The Marriage Between Thought & Imagination

C.S. Lewis provided three guiding principles concerning the interplay between thoughts and the imagination. I’ll just call this the marriage which metaphor provides.

We have now three guiding principles before us:

1. That thought is distinct from the imagination which accompanies it.

2. That thought may be in the main sound even when the false images that accompany it are mistaken by the thinker for true ones.

3. That anyone who talks about things that cannot be seen, or touched, or heard, or the like [the other senses], must inevitably talk as if they could be seen or touched or heard [i.e. metaphor]. 

From chapter 10. “Horrid Red Things” in Miracles by C.S. Lewis.

From Imagination to Reality

I first learned to play the drums through my imagination.

I vividly recall watching Green Day music videos, internalizing how the hi-hat synced with the left foot. I distinguished the sound of the snare from the deep resonance of the toms. And I would carefully mimic the stick movements as they made contact with the skins.

Before long, I could play along to the entire Dookie album in my head.

Because I was so immersed in it, transitioning to a real drum set felt surprisingly intuitive (even if my technique was far from perfect).

I often joke that my musical journey truly began on the air drums.

Artists thrive in this kind of journey. They first live in the imagination.

But the journey of artmaking is the journey to manifest that into the physical world.

How to Pioneer Something

Claude Monet, Impression, Sunrise (1872)

Sometimes, you might make something outside the box. Perhaps there is no category for it. It goes against the grain of all that is out there already. But it resonates with a few.

This work (or you) might make you get labeled a certain way by those who don’t see the vision you see.

What you might not realize yet is you might be pioneering the next wave of something. You might be defining boundaries not yet existence.

Monet’s Impression, Sunrise did not launch the Impressionist movement, per se. But the name, “The Impressionists,” came directly from this painting. You never know who else out there is pioneering something you alongside you. You just can’t see them yet.

How We Measure Art

We cannot only engage the art world with Paul’s Acts 17 anger (17:16).

We must shift from his anger to another form of measurement.

His anger derided from measuring the art/idols against God.

His engagement (17:22-24) arose from measuring it against itself and the Athenians.

The Benefits and Risks of Direct and Indirect Communication

Luigi was always my favorite character in Super Mario Bros. 2. Of the four playable choices, his mechanics felt the most natural to my Nintendo trigger thumbs. But what if the level calls for Mario’s pounce, Peach’s float, or Toad’s height (or lack thereof)?

The same dynamic applies to our preferred communication styles and the specific needs of a circumstance.

Some favor an authoritative, direct, tell-it-like-it-is approach, while others prefer a more subtle posture. Both direct and indirect communication offer distinct benefits, yet each comes with trade-offs.

Direct Communication. Communicating directly can ensure clear, efficient information exchange. However, it risks straining the relationship. That’s the cost.

Indirect Communication. Communicating indirectly can preserve personal honor and maintain relational harmony. However, it risks misinterpreting what the other person is truly trying to convey.

Which cost is worth paying in this moment?

When Jesus offended his followers, it was over his core teaching (John 6:60). He didn’t offend over policy issues, carpet choices, or church service schedules.

He told them to eat his flesh. 

Big difference.

On Genres

Why hasn’t a film like Tropic Thunder (or any Marvel blockbuster) been canceled for featuring Robert Downey Jr. in blackface?

How does Dave Chappelle maintain his status as a comedy icon despite some of the controversial boundaries he pushes? 

How does Eminem continue to earn widespread acclaim even when his songs clearly depict murdering his ex-wife?

The answer lies in genre.

Communication and artistic genres frame how we interpret messages. The cultural imagination relies on these frameworks to guide how we process what we see and hear.

YouTube creators can have fun altering a film's genre through its score. For instance, re-editing Mrs. Doubtfire as a thriller or removing John Williams’ iconic music from Star Wars.

Ultimately, genre tells the audience: “Interpret this narrative through this lens, not that one.”

“It’s like” vs. “It is.”

“It’s like” acts like a runway to launch into another imaginative world. 

“It is” serves as the landing pad.

These approaches are not in opposition to one another. Many in the church help land the plane, while others facilitate takeoff. True harmony is preserved when everyone acknowledges that Jesus is the pilot.

Too often, the typical artist in the American Evangelical church feels as though teachers and preachers dominate the cockpit, relying almost exclusively on declarative, Scripturally inspired declarations.

I am not calling for an end to “it-is-ism.”

Rather, I am reminding us that God gave us airplanes to fly, not merely to stay grounded on the tarmac.