Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.
The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.
You simply have to find
It is all in your hands.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
original content and images ©j.g. lewis
A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .
There is very little that can be said about Eric Clapton that hasn’t already been said; except I saw him last night.
I’ve been listening to the musician, in all stages of his career, over the past five decades and he has been around even longer than that.
Through the years I’ve grown to appreciate Clapton more as a performer, recording artist, and as one of the greatest guitarists of all time, but I’ve never seen him live; until last night.
He was everything (and more) that I expected, playing selections from his lengthy career, and paying homage not only the blues artists who have influenced him but also to friends no longer with us.
Clapton and his band kicked of the Toronto concert with a cover of The Band’s The Shape I’m in, a fitting tribute to his longtime Canadian friend Robbie Robertson. Then, later, a tune he once recorded with Tina Turner: Tearing Us Apart.
The show was filled with both popular hits and selections you could tell he felt like playing. With a catalogue like Clapton’s there could have been even more hits, but he did what he had to do.
At age 79, Clapton’s seemingly effortless prowess on electric and acoustic guitar was both mature and effective. There were a lot of “wow” moments.
It was quite an evening.
What else can I say?
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
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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.