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.
Month: June 2020
It is the questions that heighten your wisdom, not the answers.
We wonder with each question and learn more with each response, correct or incorrect.
Knowledge offers opportunity.
Information offers strength.
What do you need to know?
06/18/2020
Posted on June 17, 2020 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
It is vast, and unblemished, maybe even uninteresting, at first.
At the beginning of the day, to the naked eye, it is nothing more than a vacant page, or space between the lines. Upon closer inspection, it is anything but.
A page lies as open as an eye. This is my landscape. You see white space; I see themes and dreams, and possibility. The view changes, as does my mind, by the minute, moment-to-moment, year to fear, as each day becomes each day, and I am still here.
The landscape changes, oft times like a blur through a car window. It’s like that when you travel forward. Look closely at what you see, take note of the spared indifference to what is, and what could be. This is more than my breath, voice, thoughts, leftovers or left behinds. It is more than indulgence and possessions.
It is there for a reason.
This is a world of secrets in a universe of sounds. It contains sins and silence, handily left for obsessive thoughts, and action. I know no discomfort, or a source for objective reasoning, so it should be as it flows, and like any great adventure you are never aware when it stops. There are no endings.
It is not about anything, or could be about everything. It is my landscape.
As permanent as chalked messages on a sidewalk, as indelible as DNA, there is something here than need not be understood, but it can be. And should. If you take the time, take what is mine, and read between the lines to see what might matter now to you, or me.
This is my landscape. It may not all be personal, but it is intimate, and available. It is not a complete picture, but it is honest. It is here to entertain and inform, even advise, but take my words with a grain of fault, for there is nothing more human than a human being struggling to exist. I do both; struggle, and exist.
This is my landscape, even when it is all mixed up. I might say some things now and then I am now only trying to comprehend, and admittedly there is naivety, as I want to learn, to know, to understand. So it goes from society’s distinct or damaged black and white to every Kodachrome colour that is, sadly, missing in this day and age. I use the past only as a reference, and not a regret; I have none; I can’t, at least not yet.
Judge me not by my words or what I believe, take nothing for granted, if you know what I mean. Beneath all adventures, or even my stillness, is a strong inner voice. Not by purchase and not by choice. My blood boils with anger, and terror, and compassion. And love. I have a purpose, with promise, thoughts ever full of hope, evermore. Finding momentum to even my most dormant dreams I break it down again, and again.
Again. These are my eyes.
There is no revolution, not right now. Perhaps, maybe, there will be, for someone, somewhere else, a person to show something new about you, or your inner being. It may not be me, but keep reading, to see.
This is my landscape. These are my dreams.
© 2016 j.g. lewis
Posted on June 16, 2020 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
We have all been a little preoccupied by this virus thing.
We’ve spent more time at home than we have in years.
With all the social isolation and physical distancing, our wanderlust has been clipped.
Travel has been restricted, but not the mail.
Send me a postcard from home.
Tell me something about where you live; a little-known fact, something significant or another thing you think somebody needs to know (maybe even a secret). Perhaps a poem, limerick, or haiku. . . tell me what home means to you.
Don’t just send a card; send a message.
Postcards will be included this October during homecoming month at mythosandmarginalia.com
During October, contributing writers will offer impressions of home, where it is and what it means to them.
Postcards From Afar is intended to add a global perspective and make this planet a little smaller, and a little closer.
I’d love to hear from you.
For coordinates and further information on the postcard project, email
soultalk@mythosandmarginalia.com
I will write back.
06/16/2020 j.g.l.
