Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

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 . . .

expectations

   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.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

Posted on July 3, 2023 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

You know you’ve spent too much time in Starbucks when you’ve heard On and On twice in the time you’ve been collecting thoughts in your journal.
    The other morning, in the same coffee shop, there was almost a nostalgic tinge to a song that was so overplayed on popular radio in the late ‘70s, but this morning I reached my saturation limit of the Stephen Bishop hit I can’t recall liking that much anyway.
    Sure, the studio musicianship was flawless and pitch perfect, and there were a few lines of clever lyric, or maybe it was the unexpected meter to the words: “Steals the stars from the sky, puts on Sinatra and starts to cry”. In this morning’s unexpected over-analyzing, I find it’s the purposeful use of the three syllables in the name “Sinatra” that bring about a little bit of songwriting magic that cover up the flaws of the inane Top 40 hit.
    But Bishop’s timid (that’s my chosen synonym for weak) voice ends up grating on my nerves even more than Al Stewart’s Time Passages, next song on the Starbucks playlist and even more forgettable than On and On.
    The song in 1977 into 1978 and 1979 was immensely popular on the AM radio station in my hometown. My mom’s car radio didn’t have an FM dial or the 8-track or cassette tape option, so you were, pretty much, forced to listen to the city’s one station or the that from the city two hours away when the signal made the distance. The song seemed to be as popular on that station as well.
    It was a sappy song in the California soft-rock vein of the day I still refer to it as “air-conditioned pop”; you know, controlled and comfortable. There was a lot of that going around in the late ‘70s: pure pap.
    It shouldn’t matter this much to me now.
    I’ve already spent too much time thinking about a song I didn’t think I cared about anyway.
    Sometimes Mondays are like that (especially a holiday Monday); there’s a little too much thinking and not enough substance to those thoughts.
    Then again, maybe Mondays should be like that; maybe you should get all those insubstantial thoughts out of your head early in the week so you are far better able to deal with the consequential thoughts and important decisions that will arrive later in the week.

07/03/2023                                                                                                                    j.g.l.

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