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 May 16, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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It’s interesting how quickly some things come back to you.
Yesterday, with the warmth and sunshine we’ve been denied finally gracing our city streets, I took the time to dust off my bicycle.
I pumped up the tires, oiled the chain, wiped down the seat and the frame, and donned my helmet (a cyclist with a helmet has a good head on his shoulders), and set out for a ride with no destination in mind, but with a purpose firmly in place.
As I began rolling, I pumped the brakes and then shifted gears to both check the equipment and gain momentum. I reminded myself that speed was not as important as safety. I watched for traffic as I turned into the bike lane and began to pedal through the city’s downtown.
An hour later, it seemed I wasn’t event thinking about the individual actions required to propel my bike down the street, or shift gears to slow down for the next traffic light or make my way up an incline.
It felt like the bike was an essential part of my anatomy.
After months without even thinking about a lane change, even my hand signals to motorists and fellow cyclists came back to me naturally, as some things do…like riding a bike.
05/16/2021 j.g.l.
