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 . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

It wasn’t about age; it is still about the music.
   I, and an almost-full arena, took in a spectacular concert last night as The Who played Toronto.
   Augmented by a full orchestra, the timeless British band gave us two hours of absolute magic; full of the sonic glory you expect from guys who have, at several points in history, proved that rock and roll is what it is.
   The Who could have spent the evening simply trotting out a career’s worth of hits, but instead opened with a string of compositions from the rock opera Tommy. Later in the night we were treated to a solid set from Quadrophenia. Both albums go well back into the ‘70s.
   Of course they played, and played well, the songs that many people know more from the CSI television series, but several of the big hits where left out (they did not play I Can See For Miles my absolute favourite song ever), but that was okay. Last night was all about the music.
   I’ve long considered The Who to be mostly about Pete Townshend, the guitarist who wrote much of the band’s catalogue. Now, at 77 years of age, Townshend is still in fine form. But so is lead singer and front man Roger Daltry, 78, singing and screaming in a manner that defies age.
   I’ve seen the band a couple of times in my lifetime, and chances are I will not have the opportunity to see them again. This may be The Who’s last tour, but then Townshend said he would quit touring in 1982.
   So there is hope, and there is still the music.

10/03/2022                                                                     j.g.l.

 

Giving Into Time

Gardens across the city are looking tired.

The flowers and foliage have for months been growing, blooming, celebrating the glorious sunshine and making our days on this big, beautiful planet ever more enjoyable.

But, come October, even the most curated gardens and manicured lawns are showing signs of wear and tear from the dipping nocturnal temperatures, lack of rain, care, or even neglect.

The cycle from spring, through summer, and now autumn, becomes more obvious each day. Daisies, Black-eyed Susan, Echinacea, once-boastful geraniums and hydrangeas are giving into time.

I can’t even find a dahlia anywhere.

Our landscape is getting darker.

The colours of flowers we count on to fill our lives will soon only be available in photographs, florist shops, or bouquets of the day at the market. We take it wherever we can, whenever we can, but we will wait patiently for next year’s gardens to bring back the everyday joy as the cycle will begin once again.

10/02/2022                                                                            j.g.l.

Truth and Reconciliation

truth
comes at a cost

honour
those who have already paid

respect
the process

healing
takes time

forgiveness
takes even longer

 

In Canada, September 30 marks the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. This day honours the Survivors of residential schools, the children who never returned home, and their families and communities.
Orange Shirt Day is an indigenous-led grassroots commemorative day intended to raise awareness of the individual, family and community inter- generational impacts of residential schools and to promote the concept of “Every Child Matters”.

09/30/2022                                                                            j.g.l.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.

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

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Mondays are just young Fridays

Posted on June 29, 2020 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

You question why you wear it, but know that you should.
    You never know when you will need it, but you should be sure that you would.
   A bicycle helmet; you may never need it, but you will be glad it was there.
   I took a tumble on my bike yesterday. The details are sketchy, I don’t remember much about how it happened, but it did. It happened so quickly. Accidents often do.
   I was a bloody mess, road rash and cuts, and a gash on the temple that required a trip to the ER. My sunglasses were totaled, and my pride was bruised even more than my elbow, knee or hip.
   My helmet saved me from further damage; I can say that with certainty because the helmet itself was damaged during the fall.
   If the crash had enough force to crack my helmet in two places, how much more damage would it have done to my head had it not been there?
   I hate to even think about it.
   Having had my unfair share of broken bones in various sporting injuries over the years, including a cerebral contusion sustained in a skiing accident decades ago (there are still a few days of my life I have no recollection of), I have always been a proponent of the brain bucket.
   I’ve always said ‘a cyclist who wears a helmet has a good head on their shoulders.”
   Thankful for mine, I still do.
   Never question the value of a helmet.
   I will go out today and buy a new helmet. I think I’ll purchase the same brand and style as I did a year ago, it having already proved its worth.
   Despite the crash, I am looking forward to riding out the remainder of the summer. I’ll probably ride a little slower and with a little more caution and, hopefully, no more injuries.
   There are far better ways to spend a Sunday than sitting in an emergency room.

06/29/2020                                           j.g.l.

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