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 August 24, 2020 by j.g.lewis
Leave a comment
I wrote a song.
No, actually; I wrote the words to a song, the lyrics to a melody.
I contributed to a song.
It was an exciting (at times frustrating) process, working with a structure developed by someone else; working with another person’s art.
Actually it was interesting, and exciting, working with someone else on a common creative goal. I don’t do it too often.
Writing is, generally, individual work. It can be isolating. You spend plenty of time by yourself dealing with situations or stories that only you know.
You own the work. For the longest time, only you know the work.
When you collaborate you have to open yourself up to the thought process of another person, accept another point of view and ideas you may not have considered.
This song has been going on over the past couple of weeks.
Physically distanced, I have been working with a musician who needed words to some work. We share files and email and talk it through when possible.
There has been a lot of back and forth, each step advancing the total work.
When a structure already exists, you have fewer choices on how you create. You have greater challenges; the process challenges you.
I don’t understand notes and chords, but I hear the spaces where words are required. I know words. I am a poet.
Yet, although similar, lyrics are not poetry; not really.
There is more of an adherence to a rhyme. The words have to fit.
You must be responsive to a melody and the meter.
You must be responsive to another artist’s work.
Until, all of a sudden, it becomes yours.
You have shared in not only the process, but the results.
It is a rewarding process.
08/24/2020 j.g.l.
