What shows
how little
we know?
What can be is
oft far less than
what we expect.
What is now
has never been
what it was.
07/25/2024 j.g.l.
value beyond
Simplicity.
Is there emotion in austerity?
Humanity?
What do you see when attempting
to define your limited visibility?
Minimalism, abstract impressionism
or incorporeal thought.
Less is more, but is it enough?
Texture, tone, and value beyond
your current scene. If you take it to an
extreme, you will question
what it means.
What is really there?
What line do you cross?
Can simplicity be complicated, or
should it even be attempted?
07/23/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Things will not go as planned. Intentions will be disrupted, even overlooked, in the aftermath of an unexpected reality.
Where you are headed will not be the place you end up, undoubtedly or undeniably. No matter how hard you attempt to make each gesture, brushstroke, promise, prayer, or pastime as perfect as you believe it can be, many times you will not arrive at a perceived destination. All too often your endeavors never hit the mark; at times your work may be better than expected (celebrate those moments), but everything (even your judgement) is subjective.
You are not limited to, or by, the colours in your paintbox or progression of your process.
Imagination is as limited or expansive as you want it to be. Give it time to blossom; in certain instances, you may even have to reel it in. This is all about possibilities, no matter which media, method, or style you are beholden to.
You owe your art (or life) nothing but your presence; the value comes from the practice, as rudimentary or spontaneous as it is or will become.
07/22/2024 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 May 18, 2020 by j.g.lewis
Leave a comment
My jean jacket was taken from my car a few weeks back. Stolen.
The car was parked in its usual secure underground spot, and I may have accidently left the doors unlocked, but you would like to think you can trust your neighbours.
I also know, in the past, there have been incidents where random people off the street have managed to find their way inside our condo parking.
It’s sad, but unexpectedly expected.
Sadly.
The jacket will be missed. It already is.
It was a great jacket for cooler summer evenings, or an extra layer of warmth during the spring and fall. It was well worn, and well loved.
The thing about a jean jacket is that it takes time for it to be fully broken in, to fade to that right shade of indigo blue, and become that kind of soft. After all those years you discover more character in its somewhat threadbare looks.
This jean jacket was perfect in so many ways. It had inner pockets that could hold a journal, book of poetry, or even an extra camera lens (or sandwich) for when I would go out for a full-day adventure and wanted to pack lightly.
This jacket was washed and worn, and loved.
Of course, I was angry when I realized it was missing.
When the anger subsided, I realized it was only a jacket. It can be replaced.
When the stores are open again, and when I feel it is safe to go shopping, I will buy a new one.
Some people are not afforded that luxury.
This is now about forgiveness.
I hope my jacket was able to provide what was needed, and that it will be appreciated as much as I appreciated it.
I’d like to think the person who took the jacket needed the warmth and comfort.
05/18/2020 j.g.l.
