Mythos & Marginalia

2015 – 2025: a decade of days


  • 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

     

  • fundamental function

     

     

    Intelligence and intellectuality, 

    a consciousness of our reality.

    Clarity.

    Perspicacity, mental reception 

    or sensory perception, emotions 

    consequential 

    to daily expression of thoughts 

    and being, lay within our mind.

    Two percent 

    of a body’s mass; small in size 

    and stature, a human brain has

    greater efficiency 

    than we consider thinking about.

    Involved in; no, responsible for 

    everything we do.

    Neurons and neurotransmitters 

    affect fundamental function and 

    well being 

    far beyond our mental health.

    Grey matter. And matter it does.

    How we think, 

    feel, react or behave, the mystery 

    or magic of the cerebrum is tested 

    daily. Now, 

    then, and again, and again. Always.

    Anxiety, depression, joy and pain, 

    deeper thoughts 

    hidden inside memory and minutes 

    contained within the human brain.

    Believe.

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

     

  • the why and while

    We do what we do until we are comfortable doing it.

       Uncomfortable, at first, it is a desire to realize our intention that pulls us through the process. 

       We try; we keep trying. Seeking satisfaction, we keep doing what we do. We may feel we are up to the task, but often wonder why. 

       Oh, the wonder of it all.

       It takes a while to see results, but they are of less concern than the why and while it takes. It is doing more than seeing and being more than believing. 

       When it comes to anything, you need not ask yourself what you are doing or even why you need to do it. Instead, ask yourself what need it satisfies.

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

     

  • right here

    Summer’s shifting shade does little to shield us

    from the obvious. Heat, humidity, a melting pot 

    of humanity. Deep in the city.

    Our landscapes deteriorate, neighbourhoods in

    decline, as we strive to cope with this evolution.  

     

    Distended discomfort, rarely placated by fashion,

    or politics, or the indifference of it all. Signs and

    symbols cannot be ignored.

    Boundaries erode between what we know and all 

    we have still to learn. Ignorance takes its place.

     

    Respect the culture. Significance has its way of 

    seeping into common view, shrouding every day 

    with language we speak. 

    Unknowingly at first, style and substance reach 

    beyond all we are capable of understanding. Or try.

     

    Routinely we attempt to quench our deep thirst for 

    something more. Once exotic, even erotic, now

    commonplace. Right here.

    The sense of self hungers for a piece of it all, but

    we fear what we do not know, say, or hear.

     

    History, yes, but is the old lost on vagabonds or 

    restless teenagers caught up in the seismic shift 

    of popular culture? Questions. 

    Answers may not be found in bastardized language

    we have come to speak, by destiny more than design.

     

    No longer defined by geography, topography or 

    empathy, our interpretation of cities, as we age,

    disrupts our views of ourselves.

    Will others see what so very few of us will realize?

    Individually, as a community, we all must change.

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

     

  • Satisfying a certain desire

    Over the past couple of months, just before summer blessed us with its presence, I’ve been painting, or sketching; illustrating where I am, or have been.

    I’ve been doing it because I can — more in terms of the time I have, rather than the talent — pretty much daily. It is what I need to do…I feel, or I think. 

    So I do.

    I have been painting every summer since the pandemic set in. Didn’t we all seem to have a little extra time when our worlds seem to shut down, and we became more socially isolated?

    August 2020 marks the beginning of what I call my practice of ‘non-judgemental art’. Every couple of days, through the entire month, I’d climb on my bike and ride to the lakeshore where I painted what is now an overly familiar scene. I found it interesting how the same tree, nearby lake and distant island could appear so different each time I returned. Influenced by the sunshine, clouds, and even one day rain, I began to observe differently than I have in the past.

    The next summer I took up oil painting (again). It had been years since I messed around with linseed oil, and more permanent pigment than the watercolours or acrylics I have dabbled in over the years. I took oil painting lessons once, maybe as a teenager, but found the medium took a lot more patience than I had at the time. It was messy. 

    Then, I was not old enough to appreciate the studied application of oil on canvas, so I stepped away thinking it would be something I would pick up when I was an adult, or I was older.

    I guess, a few years back I realized I was now older (still not “mature”).

    With all that’s’ been happening, and as I’m slowly preparing to move away from Toronto, and as all my art supplies have been packed away, I still felt the need to paint. It is, after all, summer.

    So, I bought a set of watercolours and an assortment of papers, then some crayons, and pastels: simple stuff, I thought, that would summon both my enthusiasm and ever-present desire to create. Since then, the pages of my journal have been more filled with “art” as opposed to poetry and the rants and ramblings that come with writing every damn day.

    The paint, in many ways, is satisfying a certain desire.

    I try not to overthink it; which is what I pretty much do with anything: think. I over think. I experiment with styles and mediums (on a more recent trip to an art supply store I purchased India Ink with a pen and nib) and began to let the moments take me where I feel I need to go.

    It is silently satisfying, even meditative. It is, at its core, self-care (or self-love), and self-discovery; at least nurturing a restless soul.

    It is nothing like what I imagined: it is more.

    I am reminded, again ,of a realization I came to almost a decade ago: Art is not the result, it’s the reason.

    For me, art is not about chasing perfection or meeting expectations. Art is more about spending time with your self. That’s important. It matters.

    Art matters.

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis