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.
Month: October 2016
Come under my blanket, literally or metaphorically.
Share my words, and time, beneath this moonless sky. Breathe
deeply. There is warmth here; we have a place to discover,
to dream, and to make this world a little smaller.
You are not like me. Obviously. The voice is foreign. Your skin
is different; or maybe it is mine. But let’s put those differences
on the table and sit, as equals, as strangers, as humans, under
the canopy of night, united by what makes us the same.
How different can we be? You are here. So am I. Should we all
not be allowed a place for art, for dancing, and dialogue, and
just allowing things to happen. Shouldn’t this city, this place
of all places, allow for a naturally-occurring random acts of belonging.
We belong here; we are all here, more likely than not strangers.
Regardless of where we come from, or where we have been,
there are more commonalities than differences. There has to be,
we are the same. We are all right here. Right now.
Can you let go of what you are used to? Can you imagine
becoming comfortable with the uncomfortable? Can we
as a species, as a people, as a force, take back the negativity
that exists outside this blanket? Can we try?
Communication, unhindered by race, or faith, or morals and
mindset, should be the easiest way to absolve the madness
that occurs daily on this planet. If poetry is the language,
it matters less about the accent and more about the intent.
You have a voice, and it is lovely, and unique, and has
a purpose. Speak up. Share, let others know how you feel, and
what you deal with daily, weekly, and now. You belong.
Come under the cover, and make room for others.
© 2014 j.g. lewis
Thank you Maziar Ghaderi, for the opportunity of performing in Korsi at The Gardiner Museum during Toronto’s Nuit Blanche last Saturday. Korsi, a reinterpretation of the Iranian tradition, truly fostered a sense of belonging.
Scrappy branches of barren trees
scratch against October’s crisp cobalt sky.
Moonlight
and a mother’s bedroom lamp
paint screaming banshees
across the front lawn.
Winds heighten
to an eerie squeal.
She leans in, pulling a safety pin
from her ear.
Tussled hair, the scent of patchouli
and cigarettes. Her lips
taste of the night.
A safety pin punctures the
denim jacket’s collar.
Forever.
A poignant promise
from a shadow too young to notice,
not old enough to know.
Long ago.
Still, now,
I wear a safety pin on my jacket,
if only to remember the taste of the night,
and the smell of autumn.
It’s only a cookie,
is it your fortune?
Not likely.
Yet, many dreams
begin with a taste
of a thought.
Take a big bite.
j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Defined by our physical body, we are all receptacles that — in addition to the bones, blood and guts — hold space. Moving forward through life, we continue to fill this space with ideas, memories, ideals and knowledge.
We go through periods where there seems to be continual change. We welcome new experiences, and people, or take on fresh or unfamiliar styles of working, or creating.
Each time you do something, try something, or take on a new task, you clear out room inside yourself by discarding what has been there for a while. It, at times, is exhausting. The process can take you on a whirlwind trip, both physically and emotionally.
We do things, we get things done, and at the end of it all, or in a moment of quiet reflection, we realize we have depleted our personal resources.
We feel empty; yet, we know, there is room for more.
It is there, in those periods of thought, when you have to decide whether there is more you wish to accomplish, or experience, or if you are content with the way things are, or have been.
If everything is the way it should be, if you have what you need, then it’s all good.
But if you want more (and we all have the capacity) then now is the time to fill yourself up. There are always new cities to visit, emerging art to view, more people to acquaint yourself with, and new words to read.
Take the time to fill the mind, remind yourself to be accepting of change, or open to revisiting a place or process that may once have fulfilled you, or perhaps left you in a state of disappointment.
You have to decide to allow something into your life, or to fill you up intellectually and emotionally. Only you can decide if there is room for more. Only you know your true volume.
I am not empty. I am open.
Posted on October 2, 2016 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
October arrives in its own way.
