You wander.
We all do.
Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.
Unclear.
The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.
You simply have to find
the direction.
It is all in your hands.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
unclear
gr@ffiti
Anguish or confusion,
sometimes it is the way.
Anxiety takes over.
What else can you say
as you try to put aside all
the feelings that dog you
anyway. No pain today.
Try as you might to
see your way through.
No pain. Not today.
09/14/2023 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
There is very little that can be said about Eric Clapton that hasn’t already been said; except I saw him last night.
I’ve been listening to the musician, in all stages of his career, over the past five decades and he has been around even longer than that.
Through the years I’ve grown to appreciate Clapton more as a performer, recording artist, and as one of the greatest guitarists of all time, but I’ve never seen him live; until last night.
He was everything (and more) that I expected, playing selections from his lengthy career, and paying homage not only the blues artists who have influenced him but also to friends no longer with us.
Clapton and his band kicked of the Toronto concert with a cover of The Band’s The Shape I’m in, a fitting tribute to his longtime Canadian friend Robbie Robertson. Then, later, a tune he once recorded with Tina Turner: Tearing Us Apart.
The show was filled with both popular hits and selections you could tell he felt like playing. With a catalogue like Clapton’s there could have been even more hits, but he did what he had to do.
At age 79, Clapton’s seemingly effortless prowess on electric and acoustic guitar was both mature and effective. There were a lot of “wow” moments.
It was quite an evening.
What else can I say?
09/11/2023 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.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on September 25, 2017 by j.g.lewis
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Vertical city, survival within
glass and concrete, entrapped
by a population breathing
negative vibes soaked
with animosity and
indifference.
If everything were Neon,
we would dwell among the
effervescent crackle of
mechanical dreams gone awry,
unacceptable flaws and
faulty circuits broadcasting
an unreal reality of
untoward circumstances,
our emotions brimming
with sacrificial synthesia.
Unnatural. Unmoved.
We are not.
It is not.
For this life, day by day,
is more attuned to
the ever-changing colours
of nature, the acoustics of
soul, and the distant breeze
of forests slicing through
the carbon-dioxide of the
slow-creeping freeways.
Organic principles
still drive us.
Be moved by the natural
in its resplendent glory.
Be aware that all is not
made-made or
manufactured.
Maybe
the present is full of
littered streets and
calculated misconduct, but
it does not have to be.
Let down your guard.
Open your mind.
Give in to the outside.
09/25/2017 j.g.l.
