Mythos & Marginalia

2015 – 2025: a decade of days

j.g.lewis

  • life’s palette

    The initial theory, a colour wheel, plots perception, emotion and mood of a painting in progress. It is not always easy as it seems.

       Values, texture, skin tone or clouds, present problems on certain days as you seek to capture (or understand) the surrounding world as put it in place.

       Primary, secondary, complimentary, all proportionate realities which will consume your thought, if you allow rules to dominate your creative flow. Every colour combination presents its own set of statutes, if you pay attention. If it matters, and it doesn’t always.

       A spectrum of ideals, analogous attempts at presenting a vision of what you feel (or as much as you see). In any medium.

       Many times, it is tertiary, occasionally unimportant to the results you are trying to achieve.

       Life’s palette tells its own story.

    08/25/2024                                                                                                        j.g.l.

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  • life requirement

    Art does not need to be understood as much as it needs to be created; for the moment art is conceived, captured, or undertaken, there is more than an understanding. There is a will.
       Creation, in any form or media, demonstrates ideals and vision, it satisfies curiosity and proves a worth greater than any material possession.Without question, art stands on its own. The statement it makes — however elementary or complex — does not need to be appreciated as much as it simply needs to be.
       Art is like breath; it happens organically and is required for life to continue moving forward. 

    © 2020 j.g. lewis

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  • night turns

    There is that slight period of time after you wake, as the rest of the city remains undisturbed in comfortable beds, where you find your own comfort in being wherever you are.

       For moments or minutes, there is balance. The equilibrium disturbed by yesterday’s issues and longstanding gripes has settled or been mentally misplaced. For now, today is only space on the calendar. For the time being, only now matters.

       It is a starting point as night turns into day. Mentally, spiritually, even hypothetically, it is where you are. Stay there for as long as you can. Soon enough, disquiet and confusion, office politics, idle chatter and unwanted opinions will scrape the patina off the time you allow yourself.

       Make this moment your own.

    08/23/2024                                                                                               j.g.l.

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  • a beautiful sight

    I wasn’t sleeping soundly the other night; I’ll blame it on the full moon.

       I’ve got this thing for Luna — and have for as long as I remember — so knowing she was outside my window in her finest state, somewhere, gave me reason enough to go looking.

       This month it is a Blue Supermoon — you might have noticed the increased attention in the news reports — its elliptical orbit bringing the celestial delight closer to earth than it has been for a while.

       The day before I caught a glimpse of her hugging the CN tower on my way to my early morning coffee ritual a couple of blocks from home. I took out my iPhone and captured an acceptable image, but I’m still the type who considers my real camera the best option.

       Very early yesterday morning, armed with my camera and longer lens, I was graced with an opportunity almost as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk outside my condo. In all its brilliance, the lovely moon was shining out above the lofts across the street. I captured an image but wanted more, so I continued to wander through the streets of downtown Toronto looking for the best photograph I could get.

       It was not an easy task. Given the landscape of the inner city with its proliferation of cranes, condominiums and office towers, my view of the sky is often blocked (night or day).

       It wasn’t until I arrived at St. James Park that I glanced up through the trees and found my subject towering over the steeple of St. James Cathedral.

       A beautiful sight.

       I’ve taken photographs of full moons at various locations on this planet. At times the resulting pictures are nothing more than a sphere of light, occasionally tangled up in the clouds. This time the moon, and its location, was as clear as the night.

       What I appreciate most about this recent photograph is that it localizes my view. It is only a few blocks from where I now call home, but I will be moving away from this city sometime soon. In this photograph I know where I am, at that moment, and I will remember for years to come. That, to me, is the essence of a good photograph. I am satisfied with my results.

    08/22/2024                                                                                                                j.g.l.

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  • a crisis state

    Fake news, conspiracy theories, and unaccountable accounts of what is really going on, often heralded as divine truth. All lies, most of the time. Abundant now on all our screens, we struggle to know or understand what it truly means. Uninformed opinions are allowed much credence in an era where we really need to know. Politicians rant and rave, minds so flawed and so depraved you must question followers who wholeheartedly agree. 

    What passes for the news is nothing now, compared to what it was. Then. Perhaps it was limited access to history as it happened that required us to believe the events of the day. Daily newspapers, trusted broadcasts at the top or bottom of the hour, later revealed events at suppertime and then late-night news; we then paid attention. We had to. It had that power. Action and reaction. 

    Today, rare occurrences and once-in-a-lifetime happenings happen all too often in this never-ending 24-hour news cycle. Minutes and hours blur into everyday ephemera. Less is certain, more is questionable, not enough is never enough information. Misinformation/disinformation: one in the same, a deadly game. 

    Who, what, where, when and why. Always with the questions. There are less authentic reporters than answers. Journalism suffers: our fifth estate in a crisis state. It is not aways fair, it is not always obvious, it is not always news. Sadly. A celebrity event disguised as the truth is simply not news. 

    No isolation from the devastation as our world has been compacted onto tiny screens, perhaps small enough for our minds to handle. Mainstream media is easy to blame when you don’t take the time to find out for yourself. Things will really happen when the media is not around to notice. 

    And you won’t believe it.

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

     

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