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.
Live With It
Posted on November 16, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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Winter arrives unexpectedly, as it always seems to do.
We shouldn’t be surprised, but we are.
It is, after all, mid-November. This is Canada, and morning’s early chill should have been reminder enough to pull gloves, scarves and hats out of storage.
But winter is not a feeling; even less it is a date.
Winter truly begins with the first snowfall.
Yesterday morning it was only a few flakes.
Then it was flurries, and soon the rooftops below were covered in white. You could hear the slushy sounds of cars eleven stories down as the wet snow continued to accumulate.
Of course, soon, you were caught up in the cross-town traffic. Driving is not easy in the first snowfall; it never is, as restless cab drivers recklessly swerve in an out of the steady traffic with unsteady drivers getting the feel of the slick roads. Slow and steady are the rules of the road; drive with the conditions if not the confidence.
Freezing and melting, the unpredictable temperatures will be here for a while and all we can do is live with it for however long it takes.
Winter arrives, almost unexpectedly, and takes over our lives for months at a time. The first snowfall has a way of reminding us of a new reality.
Winter has this way of slowing us down.
