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 November 2, 2020 by j.g.lewis
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I spent time over the weekend writing letters, replying to cards, sending an overdue thank you note, and catching up on correspondence.
I enjoy writing letters.
I like communicating through the more traditional snail mail. I love postage stamps. I like the tactile feeling of pencil on paper, it seems more personal to me.
The thing is, I have been tardy lately.
It just seemed hard to find the time. And I wasn’t busy.
I was, however, caught up in this pandemic thing like everybody else. All the news of the spread of the deadly COVID-19 virus was wearing me down, and it was coming at me all the time.
It was rather isolating.
I wasn’t making the time to write a letter at a time when I had more time to myself.
It felt onerous to even attempt a letter, and that didn’t feel right
It’s been like this over for almost eight months.
There are so many things we aren’t doing.
You become accustomed to all the things you can’t do that it affects the things you like to do.
I like writing letters; it’s like sending a long-distance smile.
I haven’t been smiling enough lately, but sitting down with my pencil and paper yesterday helped.
Joy comes from the small things we do.
Pleasure is found in the things we can do.
Communicate when you can. We all need to hear or read other voices. We are all going through the same thing.
11/02/2020 j.g.l.
