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 2024
Our impressions of what art is, or how we perceive any form of artistic expression, may change by the minute, with the medium, or be modified by our mood.
What may be discounted one day could reveal itself in the next to be an abstraction of genius, or an even bigger mess.
Judgement routinely varies with thought.
Perspective is altered.
Perception is not always accurate.
Subjective thinking pays little heed to fact, form, authenticity, or taste. Feelings simply arrive (often unaccounted for) and may stick with you, become your muse, or be ignored the next day. Yet the art remains.
06/17/2024 j.g.l.
Posted on June 16, 2024 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
It has been almost ten years since my father’s passing. While memories are not as swift as they once were, they are solid.
My dad always seemed to have a purpose and set an example for his three children. He was professional, an accountant, dedicated to a strong work ethic. Community service was important to him, and he served on many boards, at the church, and could always be counted on to volunteer with any of the sports organizations his active children were involved with.
Keith Lewis was a good father, a good friend, and trusted confidant to his partners, associates, and those within his ever-expanding social circle. Admirably, he counted among his friends a group of men he established relationships in his college days. He was a loving husband; that was never a doubt.
He was always there for his children, though I never fully realized how much pride he seemed to take in fatherhood. He was not overly expressive about his feelings (I believe it was a generational thing) but subtly showed love in ways that he was able to.
He was human and, flaws and all, recognized I was human too.
As I grew older, and then became a father myself, I realized more and more that lessons, morals, and virtues that he was trying to teach us through his actions were both valuable and purposeful. I did not respect the lessons then as I do now and, I suppose, never thanked him properly for the wisdom, knowledge, and the meaning of love he instilled in me.
We had our differences (it was a generational thing) and there were periods of silence as I never fully understood, or accepted, those differences. I was not rebellious . . . just silent.
Despite what I wanted to believe at the time, the man put his family first. He was a provider and I never wanted for anything. He was happy in his role. Only now do I realize his happiness in the role of father and provider.
His death, almost a decade ago, was unexpected (or not anticipated), and came at a time when I was searching for answers I can only now find in memory.
I am thinking of my dad today and how blessed I was to have a father like him. It was not always easy for me to express my love, but I know it was there.
I am still feeling that love.
Happy Father’s Day.
06/16/2024 j.g.l.
