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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Posted on December 12, 2016 by j.g.lewis // 2 Comments

People walk in and out of our lives,
each of them carrying with them
a message. We learn about them,
but more about ourselves, in the
way we accept that message;
words that may not even be
relevant at that time.
Then, years or days later, the
thoughts come back to us as
insight and inspiration.
Take a little more time with people
as you meet them and learn a little
bit more. Everybody can teach you
something. I know I’m still learning.
                                                                           j.g.l.

 

Mondays are just young Fridays

I’ve been thinking about painting, a lot.
  I used to paint. I used to paint a lot. At
one time I might have even considered
a career in commercial art, then a camera
had its way with me and I chose to follow
another path.
  Still I painted. I painted once in a while
or occasionally, but not enough to really
see if I could paint as well as I thought,
or as well as I wanted.
  I even told myself that painting was what
I would do when life slowed down a bit,
or when I retired from doing whatever it
is I was doing.
  I would paint when I had more time.
  In the past I painted with watercolours
and acrylics mainly. I dabbled in oils, but
oil painting is for serious artists. Now, I
know the technique (classes helped) and
understand the time it takes to work with
oils, but not having the time I never
ventured further.
  I’ve even described myself as a latent oil
painter. Lately, I’ve had difficulty allowing
the thoughts to remain latent.
  A character I have been working with is
a painter, a fine artist, an oil painter at
that (I said earlier that oils were for the
serious). I’ve been seriously editing (even
rewriting) the manuscript, and in doing so
find myself again fascinated by how she
paints, how she sees, and even how she
approaches her art. I remember writing
the original scenes and was then, as I am
now, inspired.
  I even thought, at one point of the
process, of working on a painting as I
was writing, to further get the feel of the
paint and the rhythm of the brushstroke.
  I stopped myself, knowing, or feeling, I
did not have the time. I knew it would
take away what I was really working on.
  But still, especially now, I want to paint.
  I probably should paint. I think I need
to feel something else, I have ideas and
thoughts I need to let out. I even have
some sketches.
  But do I have the time?
  I have more editing to do, I have more
writing to do, I have commitments, and
deadlines, and I’m not sure I have the
time or space to indulge this feeling or
this fantasy.
  Or maybe that is just an excuse?
  Don’t we all have things we want to do,
but never make an earnest effort to find
the time? Instead we find excuses.
  What’s your excuse for not doing what
you want, or think, you should be doing?
                                                                 j.g.l.

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