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 . . .

these days

tomorrow is another chance

but what about today?

11/29/2022                                                                                                               j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Morning fog limits perspective.
As much surprise as wonder,
as isolating as illuminating,
we naturally want to see further.
Your vantage point stays the same.
Captivated throughout the day,
you may well stand where you are,
only the focal point broadens.Daylight eventually finds its way,
you can easily see the difference.
Darkness will come, it always does,
the view will be different tomorrow.
11/28/2022                                                                                                                                                                                        j.g.l.

be content

hold the image
speak the silence
feel the clarity

11/27/2022                                                                                                                 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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Feeling Each Drop

Posted on September 29, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

droplets

Last night I sat in the rain, just
thinking, just watching, just
feeling droplets settle on my skin
and taking up space in the fabric
of my coat, or my life. Just sitting,
just being, just seeing, thinking
of really nothing, or absolutely
everything. There were many things
I could have been doing, so many
things I have to get done, but
right then nothing was as important
as watching the rain. Feeling
each drop. Thinking or not. Just
being, just feeling nothing could
wash off of me; not my intention,
not my spirit, nor the thoughts or
ideals I hold close. My eyeglasses
became spattered, my vision
unclear, but everything seemed
to make sense within this
kaleidoscope of light and emotion.
Hardly seeing, just simply being.
Nothing was going, and everything
stayed, like me, and for a spell
I was all that remained. Me.
There were other things I should
have been doing, but some nights
you just have to sit and
find solace in the unremarkable.
                                                                             j.g.l.

 

Nuit Blanche

poetry2

Poetry: it is what I do. Well, it’s not
all I do (and I should do more) but,
I do it a lot. I think it, a lot. I write it.
A lot.
Poetry.
Sometimes it seems to write itself, but
I take all responsibility for what flows
from my pencil.
I’ll even admit to owning it as it sits in
my notebook, or on some random
scrap of paper, before it appears here,
or there. Or somewhere.
Poetry.
I have always believed a poem is not
a poem until it is shared.
This weekend (Saturday in fact) I’ll be
sharing some of my poetry as part of
Toronto’s Nuit Blanche, as one of the
many performers in
KORSI
at The Gardiner Museum.
I’ll be reading at 8:30 p.m., and then
later in the night, or early in the morn,
some time between dusk and dawn
(it’s one of those all night things).
I won’t be the only poet, and there will
be belly dancing, singing, palm reading,
story telling, and a lot of music.
KORSI, an installation by Toronto’s Maziar
Ghaderi, follows a reinterpreted Iranian
tradition in the spirit of community and
togetherness.
Come and share the night
The Gardiner Museum, 111 Queens Park
Oct. 1 – 2 7 p.m. – 7 a.m.

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