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.
Pre-dawn Confusion
Posted on March 5, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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Awaken the night
feeling a fire,
new moon of fortune, new moon desire.
Headlights randomly spray
stray light in the wake
of a few restless souls, little left
to forsake.
Window cracked slightly, aware of the noise,
discounting discomfort, confronting a choice.
A season of change and mysterious ways
growing weary of colour,
and
tired of the days.
A breath wholly taken in the good name of fear,
exhale in silence,
the silence found here.
Winter is going, but never soon enough,
it’s the waiting for the waiting that
makes it so tough.
Test pattern sheds light on the night’s darkest hour
before pre-dawn confusion from a much higher power.
Sanctimonious lessons in a stiff designer suit
no lack of words, she knows what to do.
Obey,
fall in line
or
fall out of grace,
Heaven, in her good judgment,
is a judgmental place.
New moon wonder,
new moon is now,
unconscious thought enlightens somehow.
To be mindful of a future only makes sense
stop reviewing past actions in solely past tense.
Breathe it all in,
as you listen and learn,
question your morals and for what you may yearn.
No dreams for the restless, wandering their way,
few thoughts for the weary with so much to say.
New moon,
new cycle, falls into sight
dilemmas become clearer when the days become bright.
©2016 j.g. lewis
