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.
A Little Less Beauty
Posted on August 30, 2023 by j.g.lewis
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It is the summer when they are missed the most, I suppose, when you count on the shade from the heat or shelter from the rain. We often take trees for granted.
Until they are gone.
Then you notice.
Before the spring, trees were cleared from a nearby park I’d often walk through on the way to here or there. Under the pretense of progress, 61 trees were struck from the local landscape to further underground construction of another subway line to further connect this city.
They clear-cut the park.
The 70-year-old healthy, mature trees were removed from the scenery. There was less noise than the protest efforts that went into trying to save eight 200-year-old trees further down the street for the same subway line. Those too, after a session in the courts, were also cut away from our environment.
Sadly.
We count on trees.
We benefit from the shelter and shade, the carbon dioxide exchange trees naturally provide, and the continued beauty through the seasons. We marvel at the canopy of leafy greens in summer, and the brilliant shift into vibrant autumn colours. Then, as the foliage leaves us when temperatures drop and the winds pick up, we anticipate through the winter the colour that returns with spring.
It is a cycle that repeats itself again and again.
Until they are taken away.
Trees are not temporary.
Trees are not a convenience or an extravagance. From seedlings to saplings and as they evolve further, each year of growth, another ring, another year; it was a thing you counted on. Growth.
Growth is measured differently in downtown Toronto where cranes and condominiums and office towers steal away more of the street-level sunlight. Already lacking green space, there are fewer and fewer trees to break up the patterns of concrete, steel, and glass.
This is the era of progress we live in. Each time a tree is removed we are left with a little less beauty.
