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; also me: first-person singular.
   It is personal.
   It is how I may view the world, but not as I might write about it.
   I look at what is there and how it affects me as much as the cause and effect of all that may be.
   But, it goes deeper.
   What remains underneath letters disguised as action, place, or point of view, is not lost, perhaps only hidden between the lines.
   Observation; no, self-observation is required, now and then, to check your path and see where you have been or where you might be going.
   Perhaps now is the time, as now is the present, and this may be as good a time as any to look a little deeper into me, myself, and I.
   It is necessary. Now.
   I feel it, but I don’t know why?
   I wrote, many years ago:
     I’m like a pencil;
     sometimes sharp,
     most days
     well-rounded,
     other times
     dull or
     occasionally
     broken.
     Still I write.
   A mantra as much as an explanation, it is personal. I still write, but (again) I must ask myself ‘why’ more as a process of understanding than of questioning.
   We all must wonder, at times, mustn’t we?
   Shouldn’t we all take stock of our movements and memories and emotions?
   I think this is a good time for me.

07/04/2022                                                                                                                              j.g.l.

The Entire Experience

As my world has opened up — and perhaps the sign that we are slowly getting back to some kind of normal — I’ve been able to get out to concerts recently.
   I’ve been to four concerts in the past three weeks, which is more than usual and not as much as I’d like.
   Friday night, I watched and listened to Go Go Penguin. The English jazz band is back to touring after the COVID lockdown we all went through. Seeing the tight trio working through new and old material in its powerful metronomic, if not hypnotic, sound was inspiring; to say the least.
   The crowd in the packed hall was delighted, appreciative, and supportive. You could feel the reciprocal vibe between the band and the audience. The energy was sustained the whole evening through.
   I was overwhelmed by the entire experience. There truly is nothing like live music.

07/03/2022                                                     j.g.l.

the time between

You are here.
What remains of what was
matters less and less as
distance replaces the time
between then and this.
That was then.
This is now.

06/30/2022                                                  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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A Gift From The Sky

Posted on December 12, 2018 by j.g.lewis // 4 Comments

I found a feather on the sidewalk
Delicate. Natural. Out of place
on an urban pathway littered
by disposed-of coffee cups, cigarette butts
scattered carelessly across the landscape, with
pet waste, unabashed ignorance and exhaust fumes;
traces of society’s irresponsibility.
No end in sight. Yet there, without notice,
a treasure waiting to be found,
or witnessed.
All I know is what I see.
I have only heard of Native spirituality and
a belief that when a feather falls to earth
it carries the energy of its owner
to a living being.
                              A gift from the sky.
I sent the feather to a faraway friend,
one who feels she is lost, at times, even
among friends and the familiarity of home.
Gravity keeps her grounded,
but not comfortable.
By her own account, the world weighs heavily,
as it does with each of us, at times.
We all struggle — the fortunate less frequently —
we are all fragile.
You are not human if you are not.
Pulled in many directions, we cannot step forward
when doubt is a distraction and purpose is given,
not discovered. You are not whole
when the words you think will not find a place.
Debt becomes despair.
                                         Neither here nor there.
I sent a feather to a faraway friend, knowing
one feather alone will not repair the damage
that has been done, yet the gift may serve
as a reminder she can still fly.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

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