You wander.
We all do.
Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.
Unclear.
The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.
You simply have to find
the direction.
It is all in your hands.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
unclear
gr@ffiti
Anguish or confusion,
sometimes it is the way.
Anxiety takes over.
What else can you say
as you try to put aside all
the feelings that dog you
anyway. No pain today.
Try as you might to
see your way through.
No pain. Not today.
09/14/2023 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
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?
09/11/2023 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.
a reason for being
Posted on September 24, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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Each word, brush stroke, and
movement (physical or musical),
conveys a maze of emotions, a
moral or motive,
and
it does so with intention. Art
has a purpose, even in the most
conservative or mundane setting,
it brightens walls, pumps life
into the our superficially sterile
environment,
filling space
often reserved for mediocrity. Art,
any art, is a celebration, an occasion,
a happening or happenstance,
behind which rests a soul
struggling
to release frustration and fact.
The premise of art
is simple,
though in all its complexity
lives are lived and memories retold.
Sometimes the moments are
hardly even bold, but in
each nuance there is blood rushing,
and a voice dying (no, living)
to be heard.
Art, any art,
is an attempt
not to dream, and not to believe,
but to breathe.
Art is a reason for being.
To uncap your mind, and
open your eyes,
is to brush away the cobwebs, and
clear out the channels limiting
society’s authentic ways. To embrace,
or accept,
or even acknowledge effort,
is to allow a word to exist on
a weather-beaten page, an abstract
concept to play out on another plane,
a sound to survive yet another day,
and a dance to be
negotiated through an
inevitably cramped space.
Art, any
art,
is communication
if not
confrontation.
Address your demons, speak up
for those who choose not to,
push back
minds who see investment and value
as only monetary concerns.
Increase your worth. Don’t let art
become just another choice,
shape your work
in the rhythm of a voice.
©2016 j.g. lewis
