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.
Month: January 2021
Follow the wonder of the ways, or the words; this world is full of questions to be answered and symbols to be seen.
It is always about the experience. You learn as you go if you allow curiosity to be your guide.
Always be curious.
We all want to know about something, each of us has something to show or an example to provide. You won’t find out half of what you need to know unless you ask, or see, or take part in this grand parade we call life.
Follow your wonder with unbridled enthusiasm.
Curiosity is the best teacher.
What will you learn today?
How curious are you?
Never lose the wonder that keeps you moving forward.
01/25/2021 j.g.l.
Posted on January 24, 2021 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Find satisfaction in the decisiveness of your thoughts; of knowing what you have to say is valid and true, and authentic.
Own your own words.
When you know what to write, you know what is right.
Write on.
01/24/2021 j.g.l.
Posted on January 23, 2021 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Dense fog obliterates the beginning of our day,
surrounded by pavement and landscape with little snow to
track where we have been or what we need to know. Without
a true north to guide our direction, we are pulled further
into this element of fear. Who do, or can, we hold dear.
Winter now that of a librarian’s hush; a hint of caution but
nothing to heed, not as such. Many of us decided not to listen.
Complicit in our actions or intent, the atmosphere has
become veiled in a chorus of disjointed voices, more
about the chosen and less about the choices.
Each of us comes from somewhere else. It is how we have
grown, forever going anywhere new instead of finding
our way home. Making friendly with strangers we never
really got to know, nothing comes from nothing
and we have so little to show.
Lessons learned in how we’ve lost control of our lives, liberty
being not about how we live but how we will die. Temporary
lapse of judgement or time, conscience, or reason. We truly
have no idea what to expect of the day, of ourselves,
or the remainder of the season.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
