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.
Work In Progress
Posted on May 14, 2021 by j.g.lewis
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It begins with a line.
I can’t say that’s the start of it, because there have literally been months of thinking, of planning, and conceiving. Until that first line, I have only been dreaming.
Artful study of subject matter, and colours, remaining cognizant of light and shadows, then plotting it out was only preparation.
A sketch is merely a dream on paper.
Then you make that first mark on the canvas: and then another. Line after line, so many to go; something to guide you. Intuition is not enough. Not yet.
It looks nothing like it will, or what you want it to. Art can take time.
It will evolve with the muse of the moment.
It is a work in progress.
Like myself.
Time and patience; I seem short of both, yet I will keep the pencil moving.
Line by line, by line, it will be some time before the brush touches the canvas.
The paint is waiting: it more patient that I.
Right now what matters is all I have undertaken; a responsibility to my creative self. The first line on the canvas signs my own contract with commitment.
It is happening.
Line by line.
By desire or design.
05/14/2021 j.g.l.
