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

I seem to spend more time reviewing the camera manual than I do shooting with the damn camera.
   With my new camera, about six months ago, I have already enjoyed many hours capturing the sights and my surroundings at all hours of the day. There are several images I’ve created over the months, of both people and places, that I’m especially proud of.
   I make an attempt, as often as I can, to practice a craft I have spent much of my life studying.
   But I want to learn more.
   I continue to establish what has often been trial-and-error proficiency in the craft, and art, of photography. It is what I do, and have done.
   It is about finding value in what you do and how you live.
   Involve yourself in what you can, find the lessons or the learning as you go, in everyday experiences. It becomes a rewarding challenge as you broaden your interests with a new topic, or focus deeply on what gives you pleasure
   Not everything is immediately enjoyable, but with a concrete focus you might see greater possibilities.

01/30/2023                                                                                                 j.g.l.

the influence

There are a handful of albums that signified a change in music in the late ‘70s. Many of those albums were British, but you could hear an immediate response — even revolution — from a select few American bands.
   Television was one of those bands, and Marquee Moon was one of those definitive records.
   You didn’t hear the music on the radio, not in the middle of the Canadian prairies, so I listened to it intently on the stereo at home.
   In the years that followed, I could hear the influence of Television’s singer, guitarist and principal songwriter Tom Verlaine on other bands of the time; even on the radio. I still hear it now.
   Tom Verlaine passed away yesterday at age 73.

01/29/2023                                                                                          j.g.l.

you wait

killing time
without concern for
nothing to prove
nothing to see
you wait as only
you can
killing time like it
means a damn

01/27/2023                                                                                   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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Posted on December 21, 2016 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

                Without direction from the
             soon-setting Sun, drawn not by the pull
         of the Moon, it flows past murky shadows
 shifting into place, and passes by the sweep of trees.
          The river remains constant.
      Showing itself, ripples and bubbles, only
  when convenient. Beneath the frozen surface,
                 a flurry of activity within each body of water
                 it passes through.
                 Neither transient or untenable
          it knows not whether it will end up in the sea,
   or be channelled through tributaries
                to a gentle stream, sparkling lake, or
 come to rest in a stagnant swamp, eventually
                     seeping into the aquifer, or evaporating
        and ending up as a puddle in a far-away city.
                    The cycle begins again.
              The river does not know the power it contains,
      yet continues to move.
      There is no silence.
          The stillness is never complete as we,
 minute by day, year over year, seek purpose.
     And balance. Under this Solstice,
               the Sun shedding it’s grace for such little time,
              traversing through to darker hours, as we are.
         Or as we can,
         in this semi-frozen state, craving comfort
      which comes from removing ourselves
 from the elements.
                        Man-made darkness, the shelter
               in which we hide, or rest, or plot how
           we will better face the day, and the year ahead.
 Each of us is searching, or knowing, or
                                     finding our ocean.
                                     Neither temporary
     or transient. A natural rhythm, the planets revolving
 as they should, each cycle, each pattern,
         each evolution.

©2016 j.g. lewis

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