Conversations,
ruminations, noise,
nonsense and
contradictory advice
comes with a price .
What was said
and what was
meant were
two completely
different things.
By all means
say what you mean
but please try
your best to mean
what you say.
12/08/2023 j.g.l.
With the wars, chaos and conflict, and proliferation of hate speech that surrounds all of us right now, it is difficult to subscribe to the familiar mantra espoused in this season:
Peace on Earth, good will to all men.
We can only wonder if this will ever be possible. More so, how have we even believed for so long that it could ever be probable. Globally or locally, peace and good will are notably absent from our lives.
Few of us are even in a position where we can affect enough change, and those who have any sort of ability are caught up in fruitless negotiations within the politics of it all.
Hatred has too much power
Love thy neighbour; who even tries? Locally or globally is anyone attempting? I do not wish to sound pessimistic and know there is nothing I can do personally to resolve the global catastrophes and calamities, but I am going to do what I can to create, or acknowledge, peace in my own little world.
In these coming weeks I intend to connect with family and friends who have been there when I needed them. I will reach out, even to those from a distance, to let them know I am thinking of them and what they mean to me. I should have been doing this long ago, and more consistently. I have neglected thanking people when I should have.
I need to be more thankful. I need to express my gratitude more often than I have been.
We can all do such a thing, even if it is something as simple as sending a Christmas card, dashing off an email, or picking up the phone.
We can all pick up the peace.
Yes, there are big problems on this planet we cannot avoid on the news of the day, but by making a daily attempt to reach out to those we care about our world can become a little smaller.
I believe we can find our own peace even in the absence of probability.
I still believe that peace is possible.
12/04/2023 j.g.l.
Personal accomplishments,
practiced perseverance,
following your own voice
even as it becomes muffled
by the world surrounding you.
Pride is not often easy, but it
is always possible.
12/03/2023 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.
I went to the gallery last week, a pleasure I have been denied for months.
I’m a fairly frequent visitor to the Art Gallery of Ontario; the last time I went to the AGO was February, before COVID-19 shut everything down.
When the gallery announced it was reopening, I booked a ticket, agreeing to the accepted COVID practices: face masks, social distancing and limited numbers.
My primary interest was seeing some of The Group of Seven work from the permanent collection. The 100th anniversary of the group’s first exhibition could not be properly acknowledged in May because of the COVID closure. For months I’ve been feeling that I I’ve been missing out.
We’ve all missed out on something over the past few months, many of us have been unable to attend events far more important than visiting a gallery.
But visiting an art gallery was a slight return to normal for me; something I enjoy, something I appreciate, something I do fairly often.
After The Group of Seven, I simply wandered through much of the gallery. At one point I took out my notebook and just sat in the beautiful building and wrote about how sad it was that this gallery, and so many others, was locked up for months.
Even resting on a flat wall, behind closed doors, art is active.
Art is there to inspire, to soothe and to bring a bit of joy to our complicated lives.
Art is never passive, it always displays a fragment of what life meant at the time.
Art is a reflection; art will show you sorrows and celebrate the soul or the city.
Without boasting, art proudly reflects not only what should be celebrated at the time, but also what should forever be celebrated.
I spent a couple of hours at the AGO last Thursday but I didn’t see all I needed to see, so I went back on Saturday.
You can never see too much art.
07/20/2020 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.