What shows
how little
we know?
What can be is
oft far less than
what we expect.
What is now
has never been
what it was.
07/25/2024 j.g.l.
value beyond
Simplicity.
Is there emotion in austerity?
Humanity?
What do you see when attempting
to define your limited visibility?
Minimalism, abstract impressionism
or incorporeal thought.
Less is more, but is it enough?
Texture, tone, and value beyond
your current scene. If you take it to an
extreme, you will question
what it means.
What is really there?
What line do you cross?
Can simplicity be complicated, or
should it even be attempted?
07/23/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Things will not go as planned. Intentions will be disrupted, even overlooked, in the aftermath of an unexpected reality.
Where you are headed will not be the place you end up, undoubtedly or undeniably. No matter how hard you attempt to make each gesture, brushstroke, promise, prayer, or pastime as perfect as you believe it can be, many times you will not arrive at a perceived destination. All too often your endeavors never hit the mark; at times your work may be better than expected (celebrate those moments), but everything (even your judgement) is subjective.
You are not limited to, or by, the colours in your paintbox or progression of your process.
Imagination is as limited or expansive as you want it to be. Give it time to blossom; in certain instances, you may even have to reel it in. This is all about possibilities, no matter which media, method, or style you are beholden to.
You owe your art (or life) nothing but your presence; the value comes from the practice, as rudimentary or spontaneous as it is or will become.
07/22/2024 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.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on November 30, 2015 by j.g.lewis
Leave a comment
A house is not a home.
It is not about the furnishings, or
accessories. It’s not the photographs
or artwork displayed on the walls.
Yes, they are reminders of were you
have been, or how your tastes ran, but
possessions are not what it is about.
They are not what you are about.
As comfortable as the bed may be,
it is not where you sleep each night,
and it’s not about what you dream;
but it is a place you can dream.
You live in various places at
different stages of your life. The
houses, apartments, condos change,
as do neighbourhoods and cities.
The people you live with will change
as well, as will you.
But the bricks and mortar do not
make a home. It is much stronger
than that. Home is a feeling, it is
where you become comfortable, it is
where you are fully aware of your self,
and the life around you.
It fluctuates, as a living essence
contained within in your mind and soul.
It can move you, and move with you,
and, conveniently, does not have to be
sorted through or boxed up (that’s
just stuff).It goes where you go, or can.
Sometimes it can be hard to find, and
you can leave it in one place, expecting
to find it again along the way.
It is not always there. There are always
people who contribute to this feeling of
home — family, friends, and lovers —
but they are not always there. At times,
you are alone, but it does not mean you
are not at home.
Home is where you belong. And, often,
there are people who make you feel you
belong there. It can be difficult to put
into words. It can be loud and confusing;
where too much goes on and so much
has to. Yet, in spite of the noise, and
hype, and the pace and demands of
the day, you can still find silence at home.
Home is comfort.
Home is a place you can be yourself.
Home is where you can express yourself.
Home.
I want to go home.
j.g.l.
