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

What has been heard, what has been said, after 24 or 27 months give or take? More or less, what was said (even wished) was mainly, and above all else, that we wanted things to return to normal.

We were longing for the everyday day-to-day, the regular way, sort of; or at least, some semblance of such. We wanted, we said, to be with people again, doing the things we usually did.

We wanted to see smiles, again, on stranger’s faces, we said from behind our masks and wanting so much for our lips to be read as much as our expressions of joy. Or reality. Or anything other than what it was for the 26 or 25 months of what came to be.

We weren’t asking for much, really, or nothing any more spectacular than what life grants us on any given day. We wanted the ordinary, if nothing else.

What we have known is not over. How we are living, coping, or struggling, is not the same as it was eight months, or 11 months, back (or 25 or 23). It was a long time, and longer still will be this shadow of a virus that has hung over us (more than a footnote, and still not quite a chapter) in this never-ending story.

What was, or what is, close to some kind of normal, feels closer now. Dare we say it? We wished it, didn’t we, and here we are now more than two years later, finally gathering in parks and parades, galleries, shopping malls, and back at the office.

Masked or unmasked, we might not be as close as we were before, but we are working on it. Aren’t we? Can’t we now see, or hear and experience life, a little bit like we did before?

Yes, we want more, but right now this is as good as it gets for those of us still cautious, yet relieved, that we are here to see what’s going on.

It is, or seems to be, a return to the usual, the normal, and the everyday ways. For some of us it will never happen, for many of us it will never be, but for all of us there is a new (or another) opportunity for ordinary.

The ordinary: after all we have been through, that may even be better than it sounds.

06/27/2022                                                                               j.g.l.


cloud songs

     Morning begins it all,
yet it is much later
                    you notice
   nights become shorter
when the day is no longer.
          We see less
       than we want to, and
   know more than
          we should.
   Darkness allows silence.
        May your thoughts
            be understood.


06/21/2022                                                                           j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

The lush canopy of green above us seemed to take its time arriving.
   The recent sunshine, warmth, and humidity contribute to a general feeling of euphoria.
   No specifics required.
   The changing of the seasons is not lost on us; nor is the change of reasons.
   In the grand scheme of things, this feeling doesn’t last as long as it should.
   Shouldn’t we appreciate this more than we do?
   Look up. Look around.
   Think of where you are now and why you are here.

06/20/2022                                                                            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 May 15, 2017 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

A new pair of shoes last week, I went out looking for something sort of casual, kind of sneaker-ish, but not. I’ll need a new pair of kicks for summer, but will wait until the weather more closely resembles the season before I step out for a new pair of Vans.
  I wanted something comfortable, and my eyes settled quickly on a pair of dessert boots. This was the kind of comfort I have known before.
  Dessert Boots; it’s probably the fifth or sixth pair I’ve owned in my lifetime. I know I had a pair in Grade 11, and another pair in Grade 8, and who knows how many pairs my mother bought my in my younger days?
  I was about 7 when I got my first wore them. I know my brother got a pair too. I think The Monkees wore them; thus they were good enough for me. It was about this age I also began my lifetime love of paisley shirts.
  The ankle-high boots (presumably tall enough to keep sand out as you trekked across desserts) were supremely comfortable, tan-coloured, sort of suede, crepe soles, and close to indestructible. Kids are hard on their shoes with all that biking and running around, exploring, everywhere in all conditions. I’m sure I would have grown out of the early pairs before they had fully worn out.
  My mother always told me to buy quality shoes. She said they were better for your feet, that they would last longer, and it was important, especially with shoes, because you spent so much time on them.
  I think her words run through my head each time I am trying on shoes as I choose function over fashion.
  I know I heard her this time, as I purchased a style that she had once chosen for me. They must be sensible shoes.
  And the comfort comes from some of those brief memories that flash through my life on a regular basis. Beyond the shoes, this is the kind of comfort I have truly known before.

05/15/2017                                                   j.g.l.

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