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 . . .
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
follow on social media
keep in touch
Enter your email to receive notification of significant posts. Don't worry, I won't clog up your inbox or sell your data
logical and chronological
Often an image
disturbs what is there
I do sleep at night
what keeps you awake?
I forgive you; powerful words.
The sign on the outside of an Italian restaurant across the street from my downtown Toronto condo shook me with its honesty.
Apparently, in the dark hours over one of the past couple of nights, someone decided to break the windows of this small Italian kitchen.
It was just another act of senseless vandalism.
The space now secured by plywood, the restaurant owner took a marker and spelled out his frustrations:
To the guy who thought it would be
cool to break my windows the other night
I’m not sure what you are gong through maybe
you’re feeling down and out or you were just
having a bad day. I forgive you. We are all struggling
I’ve questioned everything the past few months. You are
not alone. We are all in this together.
Love & peace #stay strong
The restaurateur is a guy just trying to make a buck, just a guy trying to survive or make his way through these pandemic days.
For months, restaurants in Toronto have only been open for take-out and delivery. Recently patio service was allowed, but with distance restrictions. On Friday, indoor seating will open up with health and space restrictions.
Some of these places have been struggling for more than four months while others have not bothered to open or have simply given up.
Who can blame them?
Wherever you are, you know what these past few months have been like. Whether mom and pop operations, huge corporate franchises, or street corner coffee stops, entire organizations are faltering.
Nobody, anywhere, has any idea just how bad the economic fallout from this virus will be (globally, nationally, or locally), but we know it’s not a pretty picture and it will take a long time before it gets better.
What we can do is support the businesses we can, when we can.
I know where I’ll be ordering my pasta this Friday night.
Fusaro’s on Richmond St. East.
What can we do as we no longer touch?
When the handshake offers danger, and even a first bump comes too close, how can we — in this period of physical distancing — mark an occasion or relationship while we try to stay apart for safety sake?
Even a smile has lost its power as those of us who are COVID-19 cautious, courteous, and correct now shield their face with a mask of some sort (and if you are not, you should be).
And in this world (perhaps now more than ever) a wink carries certain undertones, while a nod is unnoticeable or not nearly enough.
I think its time to bring the peace sign back into favour.
The peace sign is easy. It says more than a wave, displays greater optimism than a simple thumbs up, and is there a better greeting, salutation or sign off than wishing somebody peace? I think not.
Peace: is there a better word? Couldn’t this planet use more peace?
I learned to flip the peace sign in the late sixties. To me, it came at a time when things were far out and cool. I saw it on television, if I remember correctly; perhaps during television coverage of the hippies and the flower children, or Woodstock, or from the media photos of John Lennon, Janis Joplin or Jimi Henrix. Peace out.
Everyone, at that time, was doing it, it seemed. Even the kids on my street, all of us under 10 and wondering, not knowing what it meant or anything about a counterculture, but if The Monkees were doing it, it was “cool” with us.
It should be now. Again.
Of course, we learned from our moms, dads, dads or teachers that the V symbol of palm out, two fingers up also meant victory, but it seemed we wanted to give peace a chance.
Decades later, I still do.