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.
beauty of the present
Posted on June 27, 2023 by j.g.lewis
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Common Marigolds have replaced last month’s (or last season’s) tulips in the flower beds at my favourite downtown park.
After the tulips had done their thing this spring by displaying a bit of colour, relief, and magic to a landscape still recovering from a weary winter, they succumbed to the natural path of life, doffed their petals and wilted down to barren brown stems.
Marigolds, still small and hopeful, have brought dabs of colour back to St. James Park’s well-tended garden, offering significance again to the earth. Hardy as they are — able to survive both plentiful rain and modest drought (and at this point we’re still not sure which direction summer is headed) — the marigolds will guide us through the next few months (summer is so unbearably short) and attract butterflies, bumble bees, and many photographers (just like me) who will admire the beauty of the present.
Fortified by yesterday’s rain (and perhaps tonight’s … or tomorrow’s), the humble plants will grow and expand as much as time allows, each day nourishing our souls and adding more colour to our lives.
06/27/2023 j.g.l.
