Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

the time between

You are here.
What remains of what was
matters less and less as
distance replaces the time
between then and this.
That was then.
This is now.

06/30/2022                                                  j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

What has been heard, what has been said, after 24 or 27 months give or take? More or less, what was said (even wished) was mainly, and above all else, that we wanted things to return to normal.

We were longing for the everyday day-to-day, the regular way, sort of; or at least, some semblance of such. We wanted, we said, to be with people again, doing the things we usually did.

We wanted to see smiles, again, on stranger’s faces, we said from behind our masks and wanting so much for our lips to be read as much as our expressions of joy. Or reality. Or anything other than what it was for the 26 or 25 months of what came to be.

We weren’t asking for much, really, or nothing any more spectacular than what life grants us on any given day. We wanted the ordinary, if nothing else.

What we have known is not over. How we are living, coping, or struggling, is not the same as it was eight months, or 11 months, back (or 25 or 23). It was a long time, and longer still will be this shadow of a virus that has hung over us (more than a footnote, and still not quite a chapter) in this never-ending story.

What was, or what is, close to some kind of normal, feels closer now. Dare we say it? We wished it, didn’t we, and here we are now more than two years later, finally gathering in parks and parades, galleries, shopping malls, and back at the office.

Masked or unmasked, we might not be as close as we were before, but we are working on it. Aren’t we? Can’t we now see, or hear and experience life, a little bit like we did before?

Yes, we want more, but right now this is as good as it gets for those of us still cautious, yet relieved, that we are here to see what’s going on.

It is, or seems to be, a return to the usual, the normal, and the everyday ways. For some of us it will never happen, for many of us it will never be, but for all of us there is a new (or another) opportunity for ordinary.

The ordinary: after all we have been through, that may even be better than it sounds.

06/27/2022                                                                               j.g.l.


cloud songs

     Morning begins it all,
yet it is much later
                    you notice
   nights become shorter
when the day is no longer.
          We see less
       than we want to, and
   know more than
          we should.
   Darkness allows silence.
        May your thoughts
            be understood.


06/21/2022                                                                           j.g.l.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
other times
dull or
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

Posted on May 1, 2017 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

An early morning walk through the downtown streets led me past a message sprayed across the sidewalk, a reminder of what we all should be doing:
Find what you love and let it kill you.
  We all have those things we have to do. We have to work to pay bills, provide for families, and acquire the things to make our lives a little more comfortable, but what do we do after the basics have been covered? What do you do after you have done what you have to do? Do you find time to do what you need to do? Are you working on an interest or following a passion?
  Passion, yeah, that’s what it’s all about; finding that passion, that thing, activity or pursuit, that gets your blood boiling and gets you excited about life. What hobby, interest, craft, or practice are you involved with as a distraction from the day in/day out?
  What lights you up, outside of your personal relationships, career, or random obligations?
  Perhaps it’s French cooking, oil painting, photography, or guitar? It may be woodworking, or collecting stamps, or jazz records, or butterflies. It doesn’t need to be what everybody else is doing, but it should be something that stimulates the less-used corners of the mind, or gets the body functioning in ways it doesn’t usually operate.
  It may be creative, or intellectual, or physically demanding, but when you do it enough, and when it clicks, you cannot wait to do more. And more. It might even become an obsession (but, like, in a good way).
  It becomes something that you do; something that makes you you. . . at least something that will inspire you to be the person you are.
  I’ve just come out of Poetry Month, a period devoted to writing nothing else but poetry. I ignore, or put off, what I probably should be doing, and for 30 days I focus deeper and further on this one subject more than the other eleven months of the year.
  I can’t totally explain why, or even how, poetry gets me thinking, and working, in ways that command this sort of attention, but I do know I love poetry (both writing and reading). As far as I’m concerned, Death by Poetry doesn’t sound like such a bad way to go.
  What’s killing you?
05/01/17                                                        j.g.l.

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