You are here.
What remains of what was
matters less and less as
distance replaces the time
between then and this.
That was then.
This is now.
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 . . .
What has been heard, what has been said, after 24 or 27 months give or take? More or less, what was said (even wished) was mainly, and above all else, that we wanted things to return to normal.
We were longing for the everyday day-to-day, the regular way, sort of; or at least, some semblance of such. We wanted, we said, to be with people again, doing the things we usually did.
We wanted to see smiles, again, on stranger’s faces, we said from behind our masks and wanting so much for our lips to be read as much as our expressions of joy. Or reality. Or anything other than what it was for the 26 or 25 months of what came to be.
We weren’t asking for much, really, or nothing any more spectacular than what life grants us on any given day. We wanted the ordinary, if nothing else.
What we have known is not over. How we are living, coping, or struggling, is not the same as it was eight months, or 11 months, back (or 25 or 23). It was a long time, and longer still will be this shadow of a virus that has hung over us (more than a footnote, and still not quite a chapter) in this never-ending story.
What was, or what is, close to some kind of normal, feels closer now. Dare we say it? We wished it, didn’t we, and here we are now more than two years later, finally gathering in parks and parades, galleries, shopping malls, and back at the office.
Masked or unmasked, we might not be as close as we were before, but we are working on it. Aren’t we? Can’t we now see, or hear and experience life, a little bit like we did before?
Yes, we want more, but right now this is as good as it gets for those of us still cautious, yet relieved, that we are here to see what’s going on.
It is, or seems to be, a return to the usual, the normal, and the everyday ways. For some of us it will never happen, for many of us it will never be, but for all of us there is a new (or another) opportunity for ordinary.
The ordinary: after all we have been through, that may even be better than it sounds.
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Enter your email to receive notification of significant posts. Don't worry, I won't clog up your inbox or sell your data
Last week was Canadian Music Week, an industry conference and music festival. After taking in several shows I got to see a sampling of the diversity and strength of this country’s music scene.
Tuesday’s performance by Crown Lands showed the range of possibilities a duo can create, from the seismic sonic guitar soundscapes, tender acoustic moments, and one of the most identifiable voices to come along in years. I’m looking forward to hearing much more from Cody Bowles (whose drumming is as precise and powerful as his voice) and guitarist, multi-instrumentalist Kevin Comeau.
I was, literally, amazed.
Saturday night, at the newly renovated El Mocambo, I had the absolute pleasure of hearing The Bros. Landreth from Winnipeg. The trio offered up a bluesy, soulfully rootsy mix with some of the sweetest three-part harmonies I have heard in a long time. The thick and thoughtful guitar work of Joey Landreth provides a big beautiful sound while his brother Dave holds down the bottom end with a rhythm style that allows Joey to do what he does. Bolstering the sound, and fleshing out the harmonies, was Roman Clarke
In the early ‘70s, Winnipeg’s The Guess Who developed a sound that was often referred to as “Wheatfield Soul”. The Bros. Landreth is the first Manitoba band to come around in decades that are worthy of the same label.
Crowds at both venues were both appreciative and jubilant, celebrating not only Canadian Music, but also the fact we can once again get out and see it live.
It has been an awful long time.