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 . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

 

Sometime over the coming weeks, but certainly by the impending new year, this website will undergo a few changes. You might even see them as they evolve.

It’s time for both change and a new year, and an alteration to the way I conduct myself and display my daily thoughts: I write every damn day.

Daunted by the insidious infiltration of routine, I have become frustrated. To combat the daily delirium, I’ve considered certain options by planning ahead (something so unlike me: I’m more of a spur of the moment kind of guy).

To be honest, I need a little more time to tend to the bigger picture, but I cannot ignore the space I have carved out here for almost a decade.

It’s time to step ahead.

I am looking forward to the change, and the specifics will become apparent in the coming weeks. I hope you enjoy the change of pace, as much as I will.

12/09/2024                                                                                                                      j.g.l.

 

these days

Shorter days, lower temperatures,
less daylight to accomplish what
needs to be done.
More and more artificial light
crowding our night.
These days, fewer and fewer
places to go. You still need to get
there, even if it is only home.
What awaits you?
Are you in a rush to arrive, or
can you take it slow?
Do you have choice?
Only you can know.

© 2020 j.g. lewis

 

December 6, 1989

Thirty years ago, 14 women were killed because they were women.

Read that again, in case you didn’t feel the impact:

35 years ago, 14 women were killed because they were women.

In Canada: in Montreal: thirty years ago, on this day.

December 6, 1989.

École Polytechnique. The Montreal Massacre.

It was more than a mass shooting.

I remember.

The world changed that day.

It has not changed enough.

I will not take up space today to spit out my thoughts on gun control or public safety.

I will not criticize today, here, those who continue to exhibit such blatant disregard for my fellow human beings, or the hypocrisy and/or misogyny of those people, or politicians, or corporations who try to hide behind flimsy excuses and transparent policies of diversity and inclusion. Or those who do not do enough to enforce, enhance, and encourage respect in the workplace, our communities, or countries.

Today is not my day for that. 

In Canada, today is National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. 

It is a day for remembering the event, yes, but more so remembering the vital lives of the women who were hunted down and killed by a single man.

Today  — as I do each year on the anniversary of this senseless tragedy — I will repeat the names of the 14 women whose lives were snuffed out by hatred, gender discrimination and attitudes which have prevailed in the years since.

Our daughters, sisters, mothers and lovers face these injustices each day, in a country that prides itself on a satisfying and sufficient way of life.

Violence against women is still here, it is systematic, and it is wrong. We all know it.

The lives of the women killed, not their deaths, must remain an example. I dislike the popular term ‘Legacy of pain’, but I still feel it.

These names must never be forgotten:

Geneviève Bergeron
Hélène Colgan
Nathalie Croteau
Barbara Daigneault
Anne-Marie Edward
Maud Haviernick
Maryse Laganière 
Maryse Leclair 
Anne-Marie Lemay
Sonia Pelletier 
Michèle Richard
Annie St-Arneault
Annie Turcotte
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz

 

My heart goes out to the families, friends, partners, and loved ones who grieve for these significant women.

I grieve with you.

12/06/2024                                                                                                                                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 15, 2024 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

Last Friday — inspired by a horoscope offered in a publication I had never read before — I went silent. The words in the free community newspaper suggested I keep opinions to myself for a single day, and I took the words of wisdom to heart. 

   Breaking my usual routine I made coffee at home, freeing myself of the need to speak even civilities to attentive coffee shop staff. I did not speak. I can’t recall if I muttered anything under my breath, but I did not offer any opinions to anyone. From what I remember, not even myself.

   I spent the day painting, reading, and thinking.

   I didn’t listen to the radio or stereo, avoided the television, pretty much shred away from social media, and in the afternoon paid particular attention to birdsong emerging after a torrential downpour.

   I simply painted, and read, and thought, and that was all that was required. I didn’t even write. 

   It was placid, serene, and especially comfortable.

   I enjoyed this slight respite; it was almost meditative, to a point (but I didn’t overthink that angle).

   Instead, I stayed in the moment, contemplating the moods and the colours of the day.

   There was a lot of thought, self-analysis and otherwise. Self-thought entirely, not another voice to suggest, scold, or alter my perspective.

   My opinions may have mattered only to me, but does it even make sense that on that day I chose not to have any, even subconsciously?

   That was good enough to me. It was good for me. I may even choose to do it again, perhaps even regularly.

   There is power in silence.

 

07/15/2024                                                                                                                     j.g.l.

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