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

comes at a cost

those who have already paid

the process

takes time

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
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 December 26, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

In 1988 I booked a trip to Minneapolis in late September for a much-needed getaway; four days in a favourite city and the opportunity to see Prince in concert. When booking the trip, I was offered a deal on tickets to the George Michael concert the night before. The singer was flying high with his album Faith, and while not a big fan, the music was decent, and I was going to be in the city anyway.

Over that weekend we saw two phenomenal concerts. Prince was more than expected and, I suppose, Michael was as well (a consummate performer, and man what a voice).

The weekend came to mind yesterday evening when I heard of Michael’s passing. I even related the story, and then realized both musicians were now dead not even 30 years later.

Each of them passed away in 2016, among so many other great artists who have recently left the stage. 2016 has not been a good year. David Bowie, Glen Frey, Alan Rickman, Paul Kantner, Leonard Cohen, Greg Lake; I could mention more and most names would resonate in one way or another.

And 2017 will, in all likelihood, produce a similar number of artists and celebrities we have come to know well through popular culture. Yes, the baby boomers are getting up there in age.

While saddening, it is heartfelt to think of how these entertainers and how they had some sort of an impact on us. We also have to take stock of our own lives. None of us are immortal or infallible. We are never sure when our number will be called, so there is no better time to make the most of what we have left.

Make more when there is less to waste.

It may be that you need to work a little harder on that dream you’ve kept at bay, or move where you thought you always wanted to live, or take that trip. Bury that hatchet with that old friend, take those two classes that have held you back from the college degree, or take a new class just for the sake of learning something new.

We are not sure what time is left, so why not spend it doing something you want to do?

“There’s something deep inside of me.
There’s someone else I’ve got to be.”
                                   George Michael
                                       Freedom! ‘90



Peace of mind, peace
of mine. Peace not of
opportunity, but in these
confusing times. Peace at
home and peace in all
foreign lands, peace in
my sister’s words and in
my brother’s hands.
Peace not only in concept,
and peace not just in kind,
but peace we are all to be
worthy of; a peace we can
surely find. A peace of
which someday we won’t
need to be reminded the
possibility exists. Peace in
every child’s gentle dream,
and in every lover’s kiss.
Peace can be here, when
we chose to allow it to be,
but we all have to do it
together, even if individually.
Peace can be a promise, or
peace can be the way.
Peace is something to be
spoken of, and not only
on this day.
Let there be peace on Earth
and let it begin with me.

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