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 . . .

future progress

It is often history that clouds our judgment, and even prevents us from seeing the true and right path we must take going forward.

   The steps we have already made, even those unplanned, play a meaningful role in the direction we have chosen. But, they do not always have to chart the course of future progress.

   Progress, yes, it is what we must do, even unknowingly.


02/05/2023                                                                                  j.g.l.




The coldest morning of the winter
reminds you what is truly important:
– a warm parka
– garbage mitts
– a positive attitude
– good coffee

Spring is coming.
So is the weekend.

02/03/2023                                                                                      j.g.l.

cloud songs

        Our dreams, scattered
     amidst our memory, last night
            or the one before.
     The dream, the day
     inconsequential as
          the music that plays
            in the coffee shop.
            It is all noise
       cluttering the silence
       we think we want to hear.

02/02/2023                                                                       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 30, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment


Even if no one is listening, or
there is nobody who will, your
thoughts need to be more
than silent and still.
Those words stuck in your
throat, or sentences jammed
inside a faulty pen, need to
be released. Captured in
time’s motionless space,
sorrowful admissions and
moments of disgrace, have
to be liberated for the
sake of the self.
The ink, like blood, has to
flow, even when it seems
there is nowhere to go.
Scratch your thoughts into the
darkness, or whisper softly to
this night’s humidity. To do
so, without consideration or
compensation in any form, is
not an act of cowardice, but
one instead of courage.
Words are not words,
until they have been placed,
and left unspoken will only
contribute to a confusion
which will not be erased.
Find strength to say
what remains unsaid, and
let it speak to your true
and authentic soul, even
if nobody is listening,
or there is no one who will.

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