Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

  • limited lifespan

    I popped into the camera store a month back to pick up a spare battery for my camera. I was going on vacation for a couple of weeks and, not knowing exactly where I’d be able to charge up my gear overseas, a second power source seemed like a pragmatic idea.

    I ended up purchasing the last of this specific battery that was in stock on clearance; it seems the manufacturer is doing away with that type of battery.

    It is a sign of the times.

    My camera is barely a few years old; at that time the most current model with features I still have not yet figured out, or do not require. Quickly, it is becoming outdated, as is most technology now.

    Decades back, camera batteries were fairly standard. They were not rechargeable but lasted quite a while and were readily available. At that time, a small battery controlled only the light meter and, maybe, the shutter. The then-bulky motor drives to advance the film relied on a battery of standard AAs (pardon the pun) and there was never a shortage of those.

    I’ve got cameras, both analogue and digital, that are decades old and still function well. No, they do not have the most advanced technological features – one of the cameras has none – but the cameras did exactly what they were supposed to do. They still do.

    Cameras, like any computerized technology available today, are not meant to last forever. There is a built-in obsolescence; it is the way they make things nowadays. Every year there are new models, and new features, and a new type of power source to operate the equipment.

    The art, craft and practice of photography is fundamentally the same: essentially the capture of images. However, there are limits in terms of how long the equipment will last. Like our laptops, tablets, and mobile devices, the operating systems of the computers have a somewhat predetermined lifespan. A camera now will become outdated long before the images will ever fade.

    Sadly, we live with it; hell, we put up with it.

    Nothing lasts forever; well, not the equipment. Yet my love of photography sustains me and will for much longer than the camera. My love of photography is timeless.

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  • greater patience

    We all have limitations. At times these limitations are obvious, or so subtle you do not realize they are constraints until you are partway through a task.

    Limitations come with age; I’ve been feeling that lately. Not always, or not often, but I do feel it. 

    I am growing older.

    I will reach a milestone birthday this week. It is an age that, as a teenager, I couldn’t imagine reaching or being. Friday, I turn 65. That’s old . . . at least, that’s what I used to think when it seemed so far off.

    Now, it is here, and I accept it as an age I will be. 

    Or maybe I realize that the age, and the aging process, is far better than the alternative. I don’t want to think about that, even less than I want to think about aging. But I am. 

    I am growing older; it has become obvious to me.

    These past months, a task that even a year ago I did not feel was difficult turned into a challenge. Interior painting is something I have done, often, over my lifetime. In fact, household painting was something I felt I was good at; the results seemed to prove it.

    There are also the regular tasks involved in home improvements that I have learned over the years, and they are becoming a little more trying. I am (or have become) relatively handy with the hammer and nail (and all the sawing and drilling and measuring and elemental steps involved). Recently, however, these projects have not been as easy as they once were. 

    I don’t seem as steady, or as strong, as I used to be. 

    It now takes me a little more effort, a bit more thought, and a few extra days for my projects to become a reality.

    Recently, it seems, it’s not only about taking time, but I also need a bit more assistance to get through my planned undertakings. I have had to, occasionally, ask for help. That is somewhat frustrating for someone who considers himself relatively independent.

    I used to think I got better with age. Now I am not quite as sure.

    I’m not as young as I used to be, and I am reminded daily. I require greater patience. I need to take my time and do so knowing I have less of that ahead of me than I once did. That is my reality.

    My Mom used to tell me I could do anything I put my mind to, so I’ve always kept this in mind as I’ve passed through this life. After six decades plus, I have become pretty good at some things by studying, practicing and trying. I’m a big proponent of learning as I go. I have learned a lot over my lifetime.

    Much of the time I can do not only what I want to do, but also what I must do. Now it just takes more time than I thought I had. I suppose patience is being forced upon me.

    Maybe that’s one of those life lessons I have learned gradually. Patience requires time. Perhaps I am finally at the age where I can accept that.

    © 2026 j.g. lewis

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  • beyond words

    To travel halfway across the world and not visit the Louvre Museum would be senseless. The museum is on all the “must-see” list of destinations if you are travelling to Paris, right up there with the Eiffel Tower and the Notre-Dame Cathedral.

    Of course we went. Actually, the Louvre was the first tourist destination we saw. You can’t go to Paris and not see the Louvre: how many times in my lifetime had I been told.

    To visit the Louvre is about waiting. We paid in advance for a museum pass that would allow us access to any number of museums and galleries in the Paris. The Louvre was one of the few that required a time-entry. We were slated for 11 a.m. Along with a huge mass of humanity, we began lining up well more than an hour before.

    During this waiting period, you are allowed all that time to marvel at the historical and architectural gem and the stunning glass pyramid that marks entry to a journey of art and culture.

    What one must remember about the Louvre is that it is a museum and not an art gallery. Yes, there is art – plenty of art -from textiles to sculpture and, of course, paintings. What one must remember about the Louvre is that it is more an example of time that has past and is laid out in such a fashion that you must walk through the eras.

    It is not quiet as a gallery is more prone to be. It is filled with people (all those people who had lined up ahead of me) and there are lots of people there more to see the museum than a gallery. Art, at the Louvre, is viewed more as history than it is art. The Louvre Museum is presented more by era than by style.

    I was, throughout the morning, impatient.

    Let’s face it: I was there to see the Mona Lisa. How many times, in my lifetime, had I been told that I had to see Mona if I were ever to go to Paris. 

    The painting is important to the Louvre: it might be the only reason some people go the museum. There are endless signs throughout the amazing structure marking the way to “Mona Lisa” (Room 711 of the Denon Wing). It seems you must walk miles through all those people. 

    Mona Lisa itself is iconic. A Renaissance portrait pained by Leonardo da Vinci between 1503 and 1519. Shrouded in a deep sense of mystery, Mona Lisa is celebrated for her enigmatic smile.

    The Mona Lisa is larger in legend than she was in size (30 x 21 inches). Wikipedia lists the Mona Lisa as “the best known, the most visited, the most written about, the most sung abut, (and) the most parodied work of art in the world.” It is so.

    The Mona Lisa is beautiful beyond words. I’m not sure I could describe her as wonderfully as those before me have, but she is more than memorable. Beyond words. No, I did not get as close to her as I would have liked. Even after I tried to inch further into the crowd ahead of me, I knew I would never come within conversational distance.

    All I could do was bask in her smile and admire the work as it seemed like thousands of people passed by, each one lifting a cell phone to capture the moment. I did, and the moment is full of people, and cell phones, and Mona gazing beautifully at her admirers. I was one of many.

    Mona Lisa was well worth the trip.

    © 2026 j.g. lewis

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  • Mondays are just young Fridays

    Maybe it was the jet lag, or the summer cold I picked up in Paris is still having its way with me, but I’ve been slow getting going these past couple of days.

    I arrived home last week to Winnipeg weather almost as hot as it was as a heatwave that overtook most of Europe. It chilly here before I left for vacation; I’m amazed at the change over a couple of weeks.

    I am home. I am back to real life after a wonderful trip to the other side of the world; to a city I have always longed to see. Paris.

    I feel different coming back. 

    With the heat in this city, the shades of the summer to come are well established. 

    The tulips I planted last fall and were only beginning to sprout before I left and are now past maximum height, and colour. I was fortunate to see the final days of the flower’s temporary glory wilt away. 

    What I’m feeling is not what you would call rested; it was a busy couple of weeks, but I’m rechanged now and ready to take on all that I have planned for the next couple of months. 

    There’s a lot of painting to be done around the house, a garden to tend to, but there is an awful lot of art on my mind. I’ve got oil paintings to complete, some to start, and plenty of ideas for prints and possibilities.

    I saw a lot of art in Paris, and I’m inspired. That’s a great mindset to create from.

    I’m truly looking forward to this summer.

    Life is good.

    j.g.l.

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  • celebrating themselves

    A country I have not known; a visitor

    I will always be.

    Always respectful of the culture, the food, and

    why we are here.

    Welcomed. The language a challenge, but

    not communication.

    They hang their flags, like laundry, for

    everyone to see.

    Pride, no shame. Everybody every day.

    Celebrating themselves.

    © 2026 j.g. lewis

    May 19th is a Turkish Holiday celebrating Ataturk, Youth and Sports Day,  

    a milestone occasion marking the beginning of the country’s War of Independence.

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