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

I called up a friend on Saturday. 

   I had a question that couldn’t readily be answered by Google, and with my limited knowledge or recollection of the subject matter, I could not satisfy my curiosity.

   It was while I was wondering or trying to figure this all out, that I suddenly had the idea that this certain friend may have an answer, opinion, or perspective I was looking for.

   Now, I hadn’t spoken with this friend for quite some time. She lives in a different city, and while we do keep connected with occasional cards or letters and random comments on Facebook, it has been more than five years since we’ve actually met up in person.

   Still, I felt comfortable enough picking up the phone and making contact.

   I know I surprised her with the call, and her voice was as emphatically cheery as I remembered it to be. I asked the question; we conversed over the intended topic, and I valued her opinion and her recommendations. I expressed my appreciation for her thoughts, and then we went about randomly explaining certain aspects of our lives.

   We spoke of each other’s families, upcoming holiday plans, interests and experiences, relationships, and all the stuff that friends talk about. It was the kind of conversation that seemed to pick up where it left off. We shared, in bits and pieces, what our lives were about in the moment. It is what friends do.

   How one defines a friend — especially in these days where social media uses the term so broadly — is so very subjective. In my phone call Saturday, I realized that his friendship was far more than many others. I am blessed.

   Saturday’s delightful conversation went a lot longer than I imagined it would. It also strengthened a connection that is now more than a decade old. Given that I will soon be moving, and we will soon be in the same city, I am looking forward to experiencing this friendship on a more regular basis.

   A true friend is one you can call up at random, ask questions and have answers provided with clarity and consideration. Friendship recognizes where you are but eliminates the distance.

   Friendship is the type of thing you want more of.

   A friend is more than a name and number in your address book. Friendship allows you to use that number whenever it is needed.

11/25/2024                                                                                                                                            j.g.l.

 

this journey

How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.

© 2021 j.g. lewis

this season

A little cold, little wet,

a little tired and yet

I am here. Still,

full of wonder.

The morning chill leaves

little to the imagination

and much less

to hope for.

Expected, perhaps, as it

always is, this time, this

season is only what

we ask of it.

11/21/2024                                                                                                                    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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The Art Of The Matter

Posted on December 14, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

A few weeks back the headline news in this country was all about a painting that sold at auction for a breathtaking $ 11.2 million dollars.

Now it’s pretty easy to say the sale of Mountain Forms by Lawren Harris – member of The Group of Seven – was the greatest testimonial to the man’s talent.

There are also those who speculate that this major feat (more than doubling the amount paid for the last record-breaking Canadian painting) will throw the international spotlight onto our vibrant cultural scene.

But, fact is, the majority of us don’t view art as this sort of commodity. Most, or many, of us do not purchase art as a financial investment, but rather as something that will brighten up the living room decor, add colour to our lives, and make beauty readily available. Even those with deeper pockets, and who chose art as an investment, generally, purchase a painting first for its visual nature.

Before looking at a price tag, a painting must appeal to the senses (first of all the eyes) and then to the emotions. Art must capture our imagination in some way, like hoar frost or a vast starry night. Colours, composition, subject and style, yes, it is all important, but the pure gut instinct of whether we like it or not is more based on a feeling than anything else.

The amount we spend on art isn’t even directly related to how much we love it. I have many pieces collected through the years, of many different values, but my true favourite was painted by a five-year-old, and it is priceless.

Art is subjective and, in so many ways, that is also its beauty. One piece will not appeal to two people in exactly the same way. Art allows us to think, whether abstract or impressionist, and it takes us to places outside of our everyday three-dimensional lives.

The moment a value is attached to art, the moment it is commoditized, perceptions are altered. No longer do we ask ourselves whether we like it or not, we begin to wonder instead if it really is worth the asking price.

In no way am I saying that art does not have a financial value. In fact, money is crucial to supporting the arts and the artists, but there cannot be an expectation that a painting will steadily increase in value, or will fluctuate like stocks and bonds. We cannot expect that Canadian art, as a brand, should now ride this exciting wave of commercial viability.

The art scene here will continue to prosper and grow, as art does, reflecting the personality and the climate in which it is created. There will still be legions of painters who eke out a living or a sideline business selling canvases for $300 – $900 (or much, much less) from the walls of the local coffee shop. This is work that is original, and viable, and available.

And yes, there are some (but far, far fewer) artists capturing tens of thousands of dollars for their images and imagination at privately-owned fine art galleries.

But, all of a sudden, multi-million dollar masterpieces will not be any more common now than they were last year or five years before that.

The only expectation we should have of art is that it affects us, in some way. It’s only then that we know its worth. We should not buy a painting only because we think it might make us money, we should simply purchase the art because it makes us happy.

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