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 . . .

future progress

It is often history that clouds our judgment, and even prevents us from seeing the true and right path we must take going forward.

   The steps we have already made, even those unplanned, play a meaningful role in the direction we have chosen. But, they do not always have to chart the course of future progress.

   Progress, yes, it is what we must do, even unknowingly.

 

02/05/2023                                                                                  j.g.l.

 

 

Important

The coldest morning of the winter
reminds you what is truly important:
– a warm parka
– garbage mitts
– a positive attitude
– good coffee

Spring is coming.
So is the weekend.

02/03/2023                                                                                      j.g.l.

cloud songs

        Our dreams, scattered
     amidst our memory, last night
            or the one before.
     The dream, the day
     inconsequential as
          the music that plays
            in the coffee shop.
            It is all noise
       cluttering the silence
       we think we want to hear.

02/02/2023                                                                       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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I Go There Often

Posted on March 17, 2017 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

I have never been to the Orient, or anywhere near that corner of the planet. Yet, with some frequent irregularity, there is a repeated scene in one of my regular infrequent dreams.
  It is tranquil, a sea or large body of water, and yet the sound is not waves but a continual drip echoing into my psyche. It is too noisy to see past the place I’ve been to so many times before, but I can taste the silence.
  It is only in my dreams. As much as it is relaxing, it is confusing because, apparently, we only dream of what we know and what we see in life
  I’ve never been to the Orient, and this dream has become familiar enough that I may now recognize the lucidity of it all.
  There is safety in this dream, and serenity. I crave both in my life. Maybe that is why I go there.
  I go there often.
                                                              j.g.l.

 

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