Sunday, March 10, 2024

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I Can Do Remote Viewing! Yay!




 I'm very excited.  Today, I realized I can remotely channel living people.  That means I can channel politicians and also the USA or other countries, as beings.  I channel spirits now, and hear the answers they send.  I don't know if this ability will mean more people will watch my podcasts, but this particular skill was very similar to the analysis I used to do at the psych hospital as a Therapeutic Recreation Director.  I enjoyed figuring out what patients were achieving and all that.  It was somewhat like going into their heads.  That is what my "new" skill is.  

  I won't be going into awful folk's feelings or thoughts.  I can't just stand there and do that.  I would think the inside of their heads should be private.  

  I worried that I couldn't compete, even though I'm not trying to earn a living or be an expert.  I'm 76.  I want to help grieving people, using the love and compassion I feel.  It makes me feel useful and proud.  I can see my wisdom and it feels great to be of service.

  Last night, I called Moses because I was getting ribbed, being a Jew, and having Jesus as a friend.  So, Moses came.  He told me, yes, he really was raised by Egyptians.  He was a powerful person.  I could feel it.  Moses recommended Aaron, instead of him.  My Sephardic family are Levites, and Aaron was the priest, (or whatever).  Founder?  Moses said Aaron is a people person and my relative.  Aaron came and at first, didn't understand what I wanted.  It's a 3000 years separation, but he pretty quickly decided it was fined.  He was/is, my grandfather too.  My dad's father is a little scared of me.  He doesn't feel smart enough, and my mother's father, while extremely smart, is more academic.  Aaron fits, I think.  He's warm and caring.  We'll see.  I might be 76 going on 4.  (God forbid!)

  I am awed.  So thankful.  I hadn't thought of this, or asked for it.  On the other hand, it still hurts badly to walk.  Usually, my left leg screams with every step.  It's my back, pain shooting down the nerve.  I also have IBS (or whatever it really is that came on eleven years ago).  Who leaves the house when they diarrhea threatens.  That, I'm overwhelmed by.  Planning on going somewhere, all dressed, and I can't leave.  Can I chance it?  That's how I broke my shoulder in Chicago.  I may not be able to travel unless it's an emergency.  It will be iffy.  I'm so thankful I traveled with my brother through a good bit of Europe and have spend a lot of time in the West and Northwest.  

  We're all coming to an end.  It's the last part of our lives.  The little bit of family left, from the Levy's, Price's, and Warshaw's are all heading toward the exit.  So few children, but they're gems.  Children are always gems.  We want ours to be brilliant and talented.  Money is not the goal.  It's brains.

  We are an unwelcome tribe, a Middle-Eastern anomaly, always hounded, with hate and pitchforks.  And we fight barbaric religious terrorists who would see children starve rather than compromise.  Peace is hard to come by with religious zealots of any breed.  Okay.  We change religions, ethnicities, bodies, and more with every life.  Once Vietnamese, next time, English Gentry.  Life.  And there is so much more to see and learn.  I may not be able to travel, but I can talk with spirits and think.  This ability feels glorious.

  I do love what has happened to me.  I've gone through a metamorphosis and come out a psychic medium.  From an atheist to a sort of believer with a friend in Jeshua.

#myFriendJeshua  #Jesus  #ReadingMinds  #RemoteViewing  #PsychicMedium  #psychicreading  #MessageFromHeavenbyJaynee@YouTube  #spiritsbyjaynee#gmail.com #VisitingSpirits  #TalkingWiththeDead  #LearningWhileOld  #AaronoftheLevites  #BeingAMedium  #LearningAboutSpirits  #ClassicalArtistMedium  #Jews  #Zealots  #Terrorists  #Reincarnation  #Moses  #HowIFeel  #Jaynee  #Readings

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Jesus/Jesua/Joshua


  Hello!  This has to be really short.  I want to stop and go do nothing.  Okay, Jesus.  Jews, except German Jews, don't name their children after living people.  Jesus would probably not been named Joseph (or God, if you believe that story).  I saw Joshua (?) had long curly hair, but I didn't look to see it well.  His energy is that of love and helping.  He was not glowing.

#MyFriendJoshua  #Jesus  #InTimesofTrouble  #AlwaysJewish  #StickingtotheTruth  #PsychicMedium  #AscendedMaster  

Sunday, February 25, 2024

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My friend Yeshua

     I put in a nicer font.  I feel pretty good except I have to be up around 5 AM tomorrow morning to take Harry up to Jefferson.  I hate morning stuff.  I'm a late owl and it often makes me sick.  The doc told Harry not to drive while he can't hear and Harry doesn't like to drive.  He is a retired Philly Police Officer (from the 1960s.  I think he retired in the 80s.  I don't know anymore.  He still drives a little wild.  

    I did readings today and yesterday afternoon.  The one yesterday was a drug overdose.  I told the lady to call me when she had more questions and we'd talk.  I can't charge people who've lost a child.  I wouldn't charge at all, ever, but people don't value what they don't pay for and we are supposed to do an energy exchange.  So far, I don't think the non-payers have ever written a review, although they said they would.  I can't compare what I do with them.  I was raised by readers, and writers, who'd gone to college.  We were still working class, but odd.

    I talked with Yeshua, (today, known as Jesus), and Queen Elizabeth I today.  Lizzy, she said to call her that, was busy, but she was friendly and curious about my getting Chiropractic "with her".  I called Jesus because the kid from yesterday is lost.  He desperately needs a loving spirit to lead him to help.  Jesus agreed but urged me to find a church with a good spiritual choir and go listen.  I was an atheist but now, I've turned into someone who knows the universe is kept functioning by one energy with other, smaller energies running us.  You can call her/him God.  In fact, they like being called "God".  

    I looked for a church with a great choir.  And looked.  I haven't found it yet.  We live in a diverse development and the ones around us are mixed too.  I'm not a fan of ignorant people, and macho men turn my stomach.  There's some close by and the reason for the trees lining the edges of our property and the private four-season garden in back.  (Yes, I built it.  My favorite shovel is a hint.)  I love our house and Delaware is so convenient.  Coming from Philly and all the cement, this is almost heaven.  I'll have to keep looking for a choir.  Jesus has been too good a friend not to try to follow his suggestion.  No, he's not God to me.  To me, he's like a cousin from Israel.  I think he still wears the one piece dress-type thing.  He has a beard, but it's not big, and longish black hair.  His hair is curly, his eyes are brown with long eyelashes, tanned darkish skin--Harry's mother's type color.  He's "white", but I've seen lighter Africans.   Harry's mom's family are, dark.  His nose is not big, but not small.  He has a good nose.  His nose has a bump like mine, but it's bigger than mine.  The psychics say he's an ascended master.  I'm not sure I know what that is, but I know Jesus.  I think I've been blessed with his friendship.

    I don't know if anybody will find and read this.  I'm writing it for me and anybody who someday, sometime might be interested.  Mostly for me.  I don't know if I'd , wrong!  Now, that I've thought about it, I have lots of questions for Jesus.  I have difficulty interpreting messages/feelings from the spirits.  It's hard.  Nevertheless,  I'm not gonna be able to stop myself from asking him questions.  I'll have to put the answers here because I don't want death threats.  Those machismo guys love threatening women as much as they would avoid threatening another macho idiot..

 

#Jesus  #jesusdescription  #friendinJesus  #ExperiencesWithAscendedMasters  #TalkingwithJesus  #PsychicConnectiontoJesus  #SpiritofJesus  #TalkingWithSpirits  #TalkingWiththeDead  #PsychicMedium  #MessagesFromHeavenbyJayneeonYouTube  #SpiritsbyJaynee@gmail.com  #SpiritsCometoTalk  #SeeingSpirits  #NewAdventure  #LoveofSpirits  #beingcareful

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

my broken shoulder etc

   i am good, but the "famous" psychics on YouTube are better.  maybe i will get that good, it depends on whether my guides, or that part of my brain can lose it.  im still not sure there are spirit guides.  okay, i saw one gumby-type figure and there may have been another.  the second figure never actually appeared.  they could have been "fans".  i am a very very semi celebrity.  (15 minutes of fame etc.) also, extra terrestrials visit us all the time. they just stick to a different dimension and were non the wiser.  they just stand there watching.  yes, they go into the bathroom. 

  the spirits have something to do with my broken shoulder.  susan lynn scheduled a conference in Chicago and brought in six other psychics.  i flew out there alone on a friday.  the program that day was fine.  the next morning, i had an intestinal problem that lasted till about one,  i attended that afternoon and had a vegetarian dinner at the fancy steakhouse connected to the hotel.  the next morning, i was dizzy and throwing up.  i fell, hitting my shoulder.  at the er, and later in the hospital room, i told everyone my shoulder was in agonizing pain.  they kept assuring me it wasnt broken.

  when the pain never stopped, after a month and a half, i went to a shoulder doc.  it was broken and i went to jefferson in philly to get it fixed.its healing now,

  so now im off on another adventure.  i am keeping my easel.  no psychic pizazz will steal my drying oil paints.  my brushes alone wait in steely repose.  i cant wash them, so no painting. i love the readings..at first, i felt SO BLESSED!  it felt like i was walking down the street with jesus..speaking of jesus, i called him. ewhen i was in the hospital.  know he came, but i forget what he did.

  i guess theres a level where jesus, moses, and the rest hang out, or the other dimension energy that fuels us fuels them too.  i figure that energy is something like a fiery star, or a huge ball of energy.  not knowing about astronomy is painful in this situation.

  back to psychic stuff, i took a class where they teach rituals to reach spirits who tend to the acashic records, which arent a tangible thing.  they have practice sessions where you must say special prayers and follow the script.  unh huh  i just address them--as though theyre separate from my brain, and ask the question.  i really dont like stupid shit for the  sake of stupid shit.  i never listened at the bullshit meetings at work.  i love when people give themselves award because im never there.  

  so now, i can access the records and talk with spirits.  im gonna insert my great grandfather somewhere here.  its a poor photo, but i can hold the phone with one hand only.


.painterjayne@gmail.com

#artpsychic, #psychic_medium, #talktolovedones, #psychicchannelsspirits, #learnpastlives, inexpensivepsychic, #talktothedead

Wednesday, June 07, 2023

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My Next Pursuit: Being a Psychic Medium

   I don't know when it started.  I recognized my father from a previous life on a box of cereal.  Then nothing until I grew up.  Harry was interested, so we went to classes in the 1970s, but it wasn't the right time.  I started the Bustleton Food Coop then, and was involved in a group pursuing awareness.  My scholarship came through, and I began to study at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and later, also the Philadelphia School of Art.  

  Days that felt tough, and there were many, I lay on the floor at Gerry Weiss' office.  He was my psychotherapist.  I was hysterical and desperate inside.  Being married to me had to be hell.  It was hell to be me.  I applied, I desperately needed, to be away from the other art students, so I worked the system very well to earn a studio.  I lost a lot in education, but I could be there.  I shared a bathroom with another student.  The first one I didn't like, but the next one was the best.  Her work was beautiful as was her heart.  It was a good time, I virtually lived in Center City as did my daughter, already six, with me. In many ways, they were halcyon days. 

  After graduation, Harry got me jobs doing Therapeutic Recreation.  At first, I didn't need more education, and I benefitted by working for people who cooked Southern style.  That was marvelous, but eventually, they caught on.  I was there for the food.  I had to return to school for a Master's Degree in Therapeutic Recreation.  This was the beginning of the therapy, and kinesthetics wasn't taught.  The degree looked good on paper, but in reality, I couldn't help anybody, and didn't want to be a cheer leader either.  However, I instinctively knew the field and took a test for the City doing that job. I got it and stayed there for about five years.  They were a very hard five years.  My boss was looking for a daughter assistant and my supervisees wanted me to disappear.  When there was a cutback, I was sort of put on the market and picked up by a Center City department.  The job was the best the City offered and I stayed for sixteen years until Lupus, brought on by stress, made working impossible.

  I used to draw at my desk, and paint at home.  I was invited to come to a BDSM club and draw.  I loved it,  I love drawing naked people and the costumes and schtick were fabulous fun.  (Nobody was ever hurt.) That was my life for a while and then it faded away.  I still know some of the people.  While I was involved, I did a few psychic readings and saw some apparitions in my house.  It wasn't haunted but apparently, people come to see their old houses when they die.  Mrs. Wasperstein did in the old house and Mrs. Smith in this newer one.  My great grandmother showed up one day for a second.  My neighbor's aunt came and stayed for at least five minutes, trying her best to tell me something I never understood.  I also saw a 18th Century man involved in S & M which scared me. 

  And then we moved to Delaware.  

#psychicMedium #LifeChanges  #TherapeuticRecreation  #BDSM  #S&M  #College  #ArtSchool  #Scholarship  #PennsylvaniaAcademyofFineArts  #1970  #GerryWeiss  #Psychotherapy  #BustletonFoodCoop  #ArtistsStudio  #SouthernFood  #Lupus  #LupusRetirement  #Apparitions  #Ghosts  #Spirits  #SeeingSpirits  #DeadPeopleAppearing  #RegularJob  #LivingontheEdge  #SeeingAncestors  #Movingon  #ArtistMedium  #ArtistSeeingDeadPeople  #DeadPeopleAreNotScary 


Thursday, June 01, 2023

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I See Spirits

  For a long time, I talked to the ceiling.  I told it everything I was doing and what was happening in the world.  Then, one night, I saw a group of people and a man jumped up in the back, and waved.  I knew it was Grandpa Coleman.  After that, he answered me with images, as did Great Grandmother.  I began to meditate when I showered.  I also watched psychics on YouTube.  There was a time I felt like a failure at it and I felt Bubba Jenny, who died six years before I was born, lean over, and kiss me on the forehead.  My god brother/cousin Jerry gradually became more comprehensible and now, we can almost have a conversation.  My life has changed.

  I was always a good person, if somewhat paranoid.  At times, I saw spirits or ghosts.  I recognized my father from another life when I was a baby.  I realized I was empathic to an extent.  I had trouble with a neighbor which drove me back into therapy.  I have been lucky to have had wonderful therapists all my life.  People are idiots who think being in therapy means one is crazy.  The Universe , other than children, can bestow no greater gift.  I am still a little paranoid, I haven't changed, but my understanding of the world and myself is large.

  I'm not sure how I realized I could call spirits.  I read the spirits around people many years ago.  I can see them.  I ask for specific spirits and they come.  I began to advertise on NextDoor and FaceBook, doing the readings for free.  I could do them on the phone or in person.  The whole experience is fun and it feels great to help people understand their loved ones are okay.  I didn't want to charge.

  I've been taking a psychic class.  On this past Sunday, the teacher told me my spirit guides insist I begin to charge.  She told me what and how to do it.  I kept June free and I'm leaving spots every month for people who couldn't pay.  Will this go over?  I hope so but I have no idea.  I was going to charge $50, but I know they want me to charge $100, with discounts for parents who've lost children and folks on Social Security.  I'm anxious as hell.  Not every spirit talks a lot.  They come, but one guy, for instance, couldn't have said more than ten words.  Sometimes I can't tell if they have hair or it changes color while I'm watching.  They don't really ask about children and grandchildren.  I imagine they look in on them.  They can see us.  Spirits are with us all the time.  I throw them out of the bathroom everyday.  I don't see spirits usually at home, except for my own family.  Nobody is bothering me.  I have a long, long, way to go and I'm only 75. lol  Truly, it doesn't matter.  Whatever I do is good enough.

#SpiritReadings  #SpiritConversations  #SeeingSpirits  #SpiritMedium  #Meditation  #FamilySpirits  #Ghosts  #SeeingGhosts  #ChangingYourLife  #NextDoor  #FaceBook  #TheUniverse  #GiftoftheUniverse  #FeeForSpiritReading  #Lupus  #GiftofBadNeighbors  #Charges  #PsychicClasses  #Psychotherapy  #Therapy  #SpiritResponse  #WalkingInTheLight  


   

Tuesday, December 20, 2022

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Living Life

   Christmas.  Gifts are bought and all but two are wrapped.  The decorations I bought in Port Orford last January are up on my Magnolia out front.  I decorated my biggest tree in the house too.  I'm trying to make December and January less forbidding.  They're so gray and depressing.  The decorations on the Magnolia especially, buoy my spirits.  I probably need some kind of roasting decorations for the summer magnolia.  

  It's going on 4 now, but it feels like 11 AM.  I slept in fits and starts, finally arising at 11 AM.  I read the electronic copy of the Washington Post or the NY Times usually to wake myself and start the day.  There was never a time when I awoke looking forward to the day.  The newspapers remind me I'm part of the world and my mitchagas is not stopping me. I'm grateful for the newspapers and the phone in general. I read the Philadelphia Inquirer at breakfast.  Luckily, I like to read.

  I have Diverticulitis, which for me means I often spend hours in the bathroom, reading..  Diverticulitis is very common in older folks.  It limits where and when I go places.  Still, I have my phone, with FB and books on it, in addition to the newspapers and Solitaire.  Generally, the disease isn't a big deal until and unless it is.  Then it can kill.  My Lupus is in remission, my diabetes is still okay, treated by diet, and I'm 75.  I wish everyone had such an easy life.

  I meditate in the shower.  I found I actually do it in there.  Most places in the house, a cat jumps on my lap.  If that cat is Ellie, I am inundated with her explosion of fur at every pet.  I get distracted.  I'm about to go down, clean out my shower, and get to use it since my husband has been downstairs in residence.  I haven't kicked him out, but I miss my own shower.

#Diverticulitis  #CopingWithDiverticulitis #LupusInRemission #Waking #ChristmasDecorations  #DecoratingForHolidays #NewspapersOnline  #PhiladelphiaInquirer  #LivingInTheBathroom  #TheGoodLife  



Tuesday, December 13, 2022

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Oh no, I Still Have Covid!

 OMG, I still have Covid!  It's been ten days, I thought I was fine.  The dentist's office asked me to test before I came for my cleaning.  They were right.  What a drag.  I don't mind staying home, but I miss my granddaughters.  I'll miss my oldest's choir program.  I hate that.  I won't get to play with the baby.  I was hoping I could go visit her and her older sister.  I wanted to see her walking.  

 The housework goes on anyway.  The wash continues to build.  The trash has to be dumped, the animals fed, the dishes done.  Harry is still not steady with a cane.  He can't handle the big trash cans.  He cooks for himself, which is helpful.  He'd cook for me, but I don't usually eat what he likes.  I'm hungry now and he's in the kitchen.  I have to wait until he's out.

 

 He's done and I need to add him to the Art groups on FB so he'll be seen, so perhaps he'll sell.  I don't have the energy or will to approach galleries.  My work doesn't fit and sadly, it doesn't sell well, if it sells at all, which it usually doesn't.  Galleries are businesses.  If bread didn't sell, groceries wouldn't carry it.  
Same idea.  When I was younger, I couldn't handle the phony gallery talk or the hits to my ego, if I brought up my work.  The last gallery I visited disliked my friend Fred's work and he's an incredible painter.  

 This piece is part of my vampire series.  They are all Benevolent Vampires and Monsters.  They're me and you.  Our intention is good and we do not want to hurt anyone, but occasionally our tempers flare.  A part of us is always a vampire or monster.  If you aren't aware of it, I'm sorry.  You have work to do.

#fantasyart #funnyFineArt #naughtybynature #naughtyWomen #StrongFemale #FemalebyFemale#vampirePainting #vampireseries #VampireLove #OriginalPainting #JayneeLevyPolis #YoungBeautifulVampire #FriendlyVampire #SweetVampire #contemporaryart #ContemporaryTheme #painterlyportrait #femaleartist #affordableArt #affiordableArtwork
#JayneeLevyPolis #YoungBeautifulVampire #FriendlyVampire #SweetVampire #contemporaryart #ContemporaryTheme #painterlyportrait #femaleartist #affordableArt #affiordableArtwork #fantasyart #funnyFineArt #naughtybynature #naughtyWomen #StrongFemale #FemalebyFemale

#DealingWithCovid #TheMonsterInsideUs #OurDarkSide #AcceptingOurDarkSide #BecomingaComplexPerson #LovingOneself #BeingAWholePerson  #TheMonstersWhoActNormal  #NormalIsntGood #BeYourself #AcceptYourself #DealingWithArtGalleries #OpinionsOfGalleries #MaintainingQuarantine  #Housework  #BeingOverwhelmed



Sunday, December 11, 2022

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The Monsters

    Even the monsters around us have some saving grace.  Everyone has issues, most people have craziness.  If you happen to hit one of their panic buttons, it's best to run, but if you can't, you're stuck hearing or witnessing the worst that person can generate.  Sure there is something wrong with them, but there is something wrong with every human being you will ever meet.  You just don't see it in most.  We learn, sooner or later, to act however normal looks to us.  If we can't appear normal, it may seem we don't care, but look closely, we care a lot!  We are the murderers, the druggies, the depressed person staying at home, the weird boss or most obnoxious person you ever met.  Nobody wants to be that person. 

   If we're lucky, we get counselling.  If we hit the jackpot, we get at least five years of therapy with the same good therapist.  That is almost unheard of and it's a shame.  Psychologists and Social Workers graduated from college and graduate school in the 1970s and 80's by the dozen and were shunted into low-paying caretaker jobs.  Even when insurance was forced to treat emotional problems the same way as physical ones, the jobs were bad.  A PhD could give a psych worker a start, but not more.

  When we moved down to Delaware from Philadelphia, we were entranced by the trees, the cleaner air, the space!  We thought we moved to Mayberry.  That was before one of the neighbors in the development decided what we should and could do.  That became about nine years of feuding and eventually went to attorneys.  I had never seen people go to such great lengths and I could not be sure if it was anti-Semitism,  lack of self-worth, assumption we were middle class and therefore elite?  I occasionally see those people, always with hate on their faces, or smarmy laughter.  

  On the outside, those folks are "normal".  People easily "pass".  So, instead of seeking help, they live their entire lives holding grudges and blaming other people for whatever they feel inside them.  Delaware is more conforming than Philadelphia.  Of course.  Philly is a big city, and the residents are more tolerant of difference.  It depends.  My Philly neighbor, who I loved, couldn't understand why I would want a tree on my lawn.  

  Now, in Delaware, I have a big Magnolia and lots of other trees.  I love them.  I love our house, my garden in the back, and living here.  Our kids worry because they aren't close by.  Our daughter, a nurse, saved my husband's life this year when his rehab wasn't going to send him to the hospital.  He needed blood and surgery.  I can't see staying here as we advance to the old old.  I plan to flee to our daughter's.  I'm under no fantasy that I can live alone.  Nevertheless, every tree, those I planted and those here long before the houses, brings me joyful energy.  Because of that set of horrible people, I was forced to confront my own acting out  and fear.  I'm sorry I upset them, regardless of their own feeling of being completely innocent. Nobody is innocent in an out of control feud.  I wish them sanity and more.  I'm not blessing them; they're dangerous.  I'm just hoping they, and everybody LIKE them, begins to look inward and realizes color, education, and religion don't make us DIFFERENT.  We all want to connect.  It's in our nature.  Prejudice can be unlearned.

#Prejudice  #Anti-Semitism  #DelawareVPhiladelphia  #Psychcologicahelp  #GettingHelp  #MovingFromPhilly  #GettingCounseling  #Psychologists  #WorkingThroughRage  #WorkingThroughActingOut  #ActingOut  #ConformingWhileCrazy  #BeingCrazy  #GettingOldandWiser  #MonsterPeople  #LookingInside  #BeingIntrospective

  

 

  

Friday, November 25, 2022

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Shoes!

 A growth was discovered on my husband's kidney that turned out to be cancerous.  A Jefferson surgeon removed the cancer and the kidney.  It's been four months and he's still recovering.  The nursing home rehabilitation almost killed him.  Our daughter, the nurse/teacher, saved his life.  Nursing Homes could more accurately be called storage facilities.  But that's not today's story.

  While Harry was being tortured in the hospital and rehab, I dutifully brought him meals and stayed for hours at his bedside.  When I was home, I traveled on Ebay.  Or my fingers traveled.  I was depressed and anxious and Ebay was shopping therapy.  I discovered "Make An Offer".  I wanted Sapphires from India.  I found what I wanted and gave reasonable, but low, offers.  Very often, the vendors agreed and I bought myself earrings, a ring, and a pendant.  Nothing was big or over $75. 

  Eventually, I had all the jewelry I wanted and turned to shoes.  Suddenly--not really suddenly--all the leather shoes were over $100.  I always bought the expensive brands on clearance, often in unpopular colors.  I keep my shoes for over 20 years and those green and purple ones got plenty of wear.  The old ones have started to fall apart.  One got dry rot and the soles came away from another.  New Dansko Rieker and Keen  were out of reach.  I looked for the ones women bought that turned out to be too big or small, that never felt comfortable.  I have a secret weapon.  I stretch them until they fit.  I found L'Artist clogs fit me with no stretching and they're so pretty.  I'll do photos.  I hammer thumb tacks into wooden stretchers, so my bunion doesnt get busted.  First, I spray water inside the shoe, then stretch for as long as it takes.  The shoes usually cost me about $40 + S & H, usually $10.

I find the Dansko are narrow.  The Sanita, a little better, but still narrow.  The Rieker shoes are almost okay.  I have pink ones I bought years ago.  I had been buying 8 1/2 for the width, but sometimes felt like clown shoes.  I wear size 8's, but the shoes need a lot of encouragement.  

  My shoes are still stretching under my desk.  My new shoes don't cure lupus.  They don't even touch depression, but I do look and them and feel good.  Harry is improving.  I haven't bought clothes, but I can wear the old dowdy stuff with my new pretty shoes.  

#shoes  #stretchingShoes #BuyingShoes  #GettingExpensiveShoesCheaper  #LovingShoes  #ShoesAndLupus  #TheJoyofShoes  #economizingWithShoes


 

Some of the shoes have stretched and I can wear them!  This past year, my old good shoes began to fall apart.  That's my excuse.  I haven't worn any of the stretched shoes yet because after the medication, my covid is still here.  I'm waiting.  The Allegrias aree so cute and strange looking, heavy as regular clogs, but the "soles" don't come up the the very front or back.  The same size and style L'Artist clogs are smaller.  I'll put their photos in.

 Write to me at fivecatshere@outlook.com  Thanks for looking.

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Monday, November 14, 2022

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Where and Who Am I?

 In my recent blogs, I forgot to add links.  With the Lupus Brain Burn, I'm surprised I remember anything.  So, I'll put the links here:  #Lupus  #LivingWithLupus  #LupusInRemission  #TalkingWithSpirits  #CommuningWiththeDead  #AnArtistWhoTalkstotheDead  #AnArtistTalks  #FromPhillytoDelaware  #PoliticsFromMyView #LivingandLovingAnimals #RebellingAllMyLife  #Meditating  #DecreasingAnger  #LearningToAcceptOthers  #GettingOldandGainingWisdome  #LearningFromSpirits  #LearningFromMeditation  #LessonsFromSpirit  #EasingUp  #BlockingTheNuts  #DontBotherWithSpiritVampires 


  We're all in this together, even if we don't want to be.



Saturday, November 12, 2022

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Where's Lupus? In Hiding

  I've always had mild Lupus.  That meant it was even harder to diagnose than the type that kills.  Doctors didn't want to be bothered, didn't believe it was Lupus, and one even called me names.  (Doctors are no different than the rest of us.(  They're nuts too.)  After a very bad year of Lupus in which I had to retire, we moved down to Delaware to live in a big house with a garden.  (I built the garden in the backyard and planted lots of trees in the front too.)  My Lupus went into remission and I felt good.  

  In 2013,  a family in our development began to bully me.   What they did was crazy and horrible.  I responded negatively, provoking them further, and it took me a long time- years of therapy to push them out of my head. Mostly, Lupus did not rear its head.  I wasn't sure sometimes; so much of that experience was traumatic with threats, theft, police calls, attorneys, name-calling, and lies.  I had never experienced anything like it.  I think those people saw ME as a threat and I became, in their heads, dangerous and famous.  I believe they were enraged and afraid.  I a good person trying to effect the world in positive ways, I never saw myself as they did.  I surrounded my house with trees and tall plants.  Why ever those folks interpreted my behavior as scary, they scared me, and the seemingly most prudent thing was to erect a barrier.

  I wasn't always dedicated to doing right.  I was so angry and that anger isn't completely decimated.  My childhood was torturous, as was my adult years.  When I retired at 58--thanks to Lupus--I was born again.  Not in the religious sense, in the spiritual way.  I have always been an atheist, interested mainly in my family history, not religion.  No religious dogma ever made sense to me.  Long before I retired, I began to be slightly psychic.  At one time, I could read people.  My old next-door neighbor's dead aunt came to visit me, as did a guy from the 1600s.  A spirit followed me home from the hospital and frightened me badly.  My very beloved god brother died and let me know he was still with me.  I began to meditate and listen to psychics on YouTube.  I learned from each of them.  I still do.  My grandmother who passed away six years before I was born is with me now.  I've spent time with most of my aunts and uncles and grandparents.  My great grandpa, who came to the USA in 1853 is my friend.  I'm awed reading what I just typed. 

Life spools on surprising us.  If you're reading this and have any feedback, write to me at painterjayne@gmail.com  I'm interested and lonely.  My favorite people are my children and wonderful granddaughters. I would enjoy a couple more friends.  I have a page on FB about talking to the dead.  Lupus did raid my short-term memory.  I need to remind myself of the name of the page.  Nouns are a problem for me.

  


Sunday, November 06, 2022

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A Very Good Life

  

It's been such a long time since I wrote in my blog.  It's almost three years.  A lot has happened, but I don't want to go through all that except to say we have a new little granddaughter, Lily, who is nineteen months old.  I went to visit two of our granddaughters today.  Juliana is going through a terrible time so she didn't want to deal with anyone and stayed away.  I played with Lily and had a great time.  

My son and DIL have an Au Pair from Brazil now, which should make their lives easier.  Both parents working and one child going to school a half day is a nightmare.  I hardly saw the young woman. She has the weekend off and I didn't need to see her anyway.

I've been drawing again, not painting.  I guess, eventually, I'll paint, but right now, I'm doing mixed media and enjoying it.  I have a couple of watercolors ready for pastels.  I should be using better paper but I like this book and the size.  It's running out, then I'll switch.

In a couple days it will be the final day of elections across the USA. We voted in the beginning.  There is no problem in Delaware.  There is so much I like about Delaware:  the state is run by Democrats, we live in suburbia,  we live in a big house with a garden....Okay, there are gun nuts and bullies in the neighborhood.  I had one try to bully me and his wife made up incredible stories about me.  My way of dealing with that was to put up trees and plants blocking everyone.  I can take a walk and talk with humans I like.  Not seeing angry people helps keep my energy positive and compassionate.  

We live in a working class neighborhood.  There are no doctors or lawyers here, but the houses are big and every house has a good backyard.  We have one of the largest.  That's why I could plant a garden with pathways and trees in the front.  Lots of folks think doctors and lawyers are better neighbors, but I wouldn't know.  I tend not to believe it.  People are crazy.  A lot of doctors vote GOP.  They're making money and don't want to pay for people who might be slackers.  Maybe Philly where I grew up had more middle class folks.  It was almost exclusively Jewish and Jews value education and fairness.  Our traditions (and Torah), demand charity and tolerance.  I am a secular humanist Jew focused on my family history, if I'm focused on religion at all.  It's hard growing up right after the holocaust not to be concerned about Israel and survival of the Jews.  Currently, there is a ressurgance of antisemitism.  People are being murdered. 

 Of course, children in Philadelphia are being killed by other kids just because they happen to be in front of a barrage of bullets.   I'm always aware and upset over them.  It's all craziness and it's being ignored.  As though anything is more important.  I  think not.  I can't understand how anyone can not be totally freaked by children being shot down in the streets every day.

So we live in Delaware, as far away as France, according to my Philly daughter. Our house is full of stuff, just like the old one.  There are new paintings on the walls and work to be done.  It's a very good life.

Please forgive any missplellings.  I used to be great at spelling, but not any more.  It left.  I grew white hair as a substitute.

Sunday, January 05, 2020

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Painting My Garden

  I guess I'm old.  I'm 72.  I've got minor health problems that aggravate me and occasionally screw up my days.  Today was one of those days.  I haven't begun my new painting yet.  I put paint on a canvas, but it's time to do the garden.  Paint the garden.  The woman who bought a bunch of paintings this summer bought the 'old' one.  I have no idea how it will be. Or maybe I do, but I don't know if I can paint it.  I'll try. I began.  So far, I put me laying on the loveseat, petting my dog Tuesday, with my plants and trees all around me.  I LOVE my garden.  I planted and raised every plant.  Recently, a woman bought a group of paintings from me, which included my painting of my garden.  I wasn't ever thrilled with that painting, but didn't know if I'd paint another.  It's not the same, because I'm in this one, but the focus is how much I love being in it and that's real.














It's funky.  There are painted shoes and old mops.  The mops, ladders, and clothing racks hold the hoses up high so the water reaches more plants.  The garden is a work of love.

 #lupusreflections #artistReflections #JayneeLevyPolis #Gardening #LovingYourGarden #BeingOld #LivingWell #EjoyingRetirement #LivingWithLupus #InsightfulLiving #LivingWithUnderstanding #IntrospecitiveLiving #Painterjayne

Friday, September 27, 2019

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The Liar and the Moderate Witless Terrorist

   Before you read this, if you intend to read it, know it is not about real people. These are figments of my imagination.  As far as I know, there are no real liars or witless moderate terrorists.  I made them up.  They don't exist.  The painting is of a friend who posed.  Again, this is a imaginary story.

   Once upon a time, a couple composed of a liar and a moderate witless terrorist crossed my path. They looked like normal people, so I smiled.  They smiled back until I said, "No", to cutting down the trees. They declared war. First, they called the army. The liar made up wild stories she said I did. The army believed her. The couple stole my porridge and my refrigerator and told the army the ants did it and the army believed them.  When I called the army, the officers said, "Back off!"  I died.  In my sleep, I painted ugly evil people and the liar said I painted them.  The American President didn't care so the liar and the moderate terrorist went to the pharmacist, who sent me bottles of poison.  Another pharmacist liked my paintings and told the liar and the terrorist I would never cut down the trees and they could lay down and die.  I was very happy, but the experience had been a bad one.  I had to go back to school to learn how to live and breathe.  I'm doing my homework now.  Probably for a long time.
I have so much to learn.
 
  When the war started, back in 2013, Lupus came back.  It was easy.  I had purchased anxiety years before at the Horn and Hardart Automat.  It was on sale, only $.05.  Cheap.  Seventy percent off.  I brought it home and nobody noticed.  I looked the same, but my fingernails were shorter.  In 2013, I was on a boat at Bermuda getting drunk on Ukrainian Lemon Vodka from my Ukrainian "niece".  The boat landed in Los Angeles and I found the moderate terrorist had popped psychedelic mushrooms close to Harry's mouth.  Harry couldn't remember, but he told a general he knew from Philadelphia.  It was something to remember.  I set out walking home.  I had to protect the dog.  When the rain hit in Oklahoma, I hitched a ride back to the Pacific.  I felt safer there.  In the end, I had to get back to my garden, regardless of Lupus and tired feet.
  Lupus will forever be a problem, but I did win the Lupus Lottery.  I could be dead, or on the way further.  I'm not.  I say, with more education, I will be wiser.  The liar and the witless terrorist are happy being a liar and a witless moderate terrorist.  They are on Broadway and have fans.  Sometimes, I think I feel their eyes, but it's only cat hair.  My heart tells my brain to register them for the Irish Sweepstakes and leave them on the spaceship, but my feet are stuck and they remind me.  I am  Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom (and Warfare).  My compassion runneth over. I am all that. And less, depending on the hour and the food.
#Lupus
#ElderlyLupus
#LupusGone
#BadFriendFable
#EvilDoers
#DealingWithBadPeople
#ModeratelyBadPeople
Coments? Write to me @ painterjayne@gmail.com
www.painterjayne.gallery

Sunday, August 11, 2019

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All Sold and Selling just now





When it rains, it pours.  That's how it's gone for me.  Suddenly, all of these just sold, or are selling.   It's a shock.
#SellingPaintings
#ArtistSellingPaintings
#SellingYourPaintings
#Art
#PAFAArtist
#PhiladelphiaArtist
#BuyingArt
#BuyArtDirectlyFromArtists
#BuyArtYouLike
#JayneeLevyPolis

Monday, August 05, 2019

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Lupus At 71

Atlantic City Couple June 2019, Mixed Media,  10 x 8", by Jaynee LevyPolis
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Saturday, July 06, 2019

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Lupus Can Attack Anywhere

Lupus....  I should have realized as soon as I saw Irritable Bowel Syndrome is caused by the Central Nervous System.  Most of the problems I've had were nervous system snafus.  Lupus can effect any organ, joints, hair, etc.  It's not unusual for Lupus to kill its victims.  I've known lots of people who fought it, but eventually, succumbed.  I've been very lucky with Lupus.  I either had bosses who wanted to help, or I somehow escaped the notice of ones who didn't.  Before I was diagnosed in 1993, I remember lying on my office sofa, exhausted and sick.  How did no one see me, or knock on my door?
  I had to retire at 58, I could no longer do the work.  The complicated new computer program was impossible for me.  I was so depressed.  It broke my heart.  Lupus had effected my ability to focus sufficiently to learn.  My memory had holes too.   I wanted to remember how I handled cases, but couldn't.  Where I put things became a mystery.  I still suffered from bouts of nausea, joint pain, and more.  That job lasted sixteen years and it was the best I'd ever had.  Our son hadn't finished college yet and I was paying.  (It worked out.)
  Retiring turned out to be healthy for me..  Eventually, we moved to a house with only thirteen steps in total and a quarter acre of land. 
   I love the trees and my garden in the backyard is wonderful.  The back gate leads to a shallow park and field.  If the weather is temperate, and I feel okay, I walk Tuesday there.  We've lived here for thirteen years and I thought my lupus was in remission.  I didn't realize it just changed direction.  Doctors usually either blame all our ills on Lupus, or judge each ailment as separate, and unrelated to Lupus.  Moving to Delaware meant I had to leave my Rheumatologist because he was up in Bucks County, about 70 miles away.  I'm a poor historian.  I tend not to state all my problems.  It took years to find a rheumy I liked.  I've never found a replacement.  I did keep my neurologist.  He's the doctor I'll discuss this IBS with.  With Lupus, when we find docs who listen to us, we have to keep them.  I fell through the cracks often enough to be ruthless.  We have to be.
  Before I was diagnosed, I was a nervous system scholar.  I spent years in the Regional Library researching what was attacking me.  My brain is not as sharp now. Nevertheless, I am resolute.  

#Lupus  #LivingWithLupus #LifeWithLupus #LifeWithAutoimmuneIllness #MildLupusLife #IBSandLupus #LupusIBS

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Friday, March 29, 2019

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FROM 2006 TILL NOW

  It's been a very long time since I've posted.  In the meantime, we moved to Delaware, were blessed by two granddaughters, and continued to paint and exhibit.  My Lupus went into remission except for short term flares related to stress.  I had my first and only hospitalization for Lupus and a couple of seizures. These last two years had too much stress. Nobody wanted to hear me complain about the same nonsense over and over.  I felt threatened, and until I got help, I was endangering myself.
  I don't hate anybody.  I've been lucky and I'm very grateful.  I had my garage broken into and work stolen, but I've had work stolen before.  I think this time someone thought my nudes would be a turn on and was disappointed to learn, they usually funny, not porn. Insurance paid me for them which was nice.  I hadn't expected to sell so many. 
  For a few years, there has been a piece of life that was difficult and uncomfortable. I always avoid people who want to fight, but at the same time, I fight with anyone who wants to take advantage of me.  I never understood why the people who were doing that thought it was right and an argument blossomed into a feud.  I should have realized.  I worked with people who reported colleagues, who would sue when their desires weren't honored.  One woman would freak if another person's holiday decorations got on her cubicle wall by accident.  I'm grateful I never heard from her after I retired.  I worked with some exceptional people.  One of my favorites was a WWII war hero.   We used to talk old movies and did projects together.  It was a political department, and not every person was terrific. We had all sorts of drama, a lot of which was funny.  Every week, my cousin Jerry took the train into my Center City Philly office, and met me for lunch.
  In 06, we lost Jerry, who I adored my whole life.  He was the older brother who held my hand and walked me to kindergarten.  He taught me to play chess and was my confidant.   I'd give all my work to have him back for a day.  When we lose people we love, life changes.  I've lost three best friends over these years.  I would never have guessed.  It's lonely without them.  That doesn't mean I'm desperate for friends.  I'm picky.  Too many people take no responsibility for their behavior.  They believe they're victims.  Not for me.  Lots of people have no introspection.  Also not for me.  I'm working to get my head in gear now, my last chance before I kick the bucket. 
  Recently, someone I hardly know said she liked my stories.  I was stymied.  I never told her any stories.  Then, I realized she must have read them here.  She might see herself in what I say, but I hope she understands, if she reads this, that she is mistaken believing I would want to hurt her.  Or that I think she's stupid, or ignorant, etc.  I've had friends who had intellectual disabilities.  It's what is in a person's heart, and their character, not their brains, that makes them attractive.  I'm not brilliant, but yes, I do love to talk with somebody smarter.  If that person is a snob, they can keep the talk.  I'm not interested.
  Something weird happened too.  I've never had anyone previously say they were in my paintings.  That happened last year.  One painting I did for therapy~yes, I do that~turned out to look like every person who looked a certain way.  Luckily, only one person complained.  I never showed those paintings except to other artists on the internet.  If I'd been asked, I would have taken them offline, which I did later when I found out how upset they were.  Using Art as therapy can be helpful.  I usually draw what troubles me but I've been working and exhibiting with a group of other Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts graduates and their work has inspired me.  They are such talented artists, I'm so grateful to have them as friends. I draw with them regularly in addition to drawing around here.
  I'm hoping to host a couple of the other artists this spring.  I'd like to share my garden with them.  I planted a garden in our Delaware house.  It's a lovely place to meditate or work.  We Lupies need our calm.  I highly recommend spending time in the trees among plants.  If it's feasible, it helps to see a therapist so we can decrease stress.  Stress brings on all the autoimmune diseases.  Talking with a therapist isn't weakness, it's sensible because we have a death~dealing illness, and as a bonus, we get greater awareness. 
  I'll try to write more and not allow years to go by again.  Thank you for reading this.  Feel free to write to me at painterjayne@gmail.com




Thursday, September 04, 2014

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  My computer needs to be restarted.  It's acting strangely and I know.... It's bedtime.  I had things to do I never did and won't do now.  Tomorrow is busy so I probably won't do them tomorrow either.  I didn't paint today. I forgot.  I dug holes late this afternoon after it got a little cooler.  Not cool enough, but I did it.  I stepped in one of the holes I dug a couple of months ago.  I dug lots of holes then in the lawn adjacent to next door.  I don't want to see our neighbors.  They turned out to be a problem.  I can't even describe what's wrong with them and certainly not why.  I don't know, but it is what it is.
  I've propagated some Verbena and at least one Lilac plus other shrubs and flowers.  As the weather cools, I'll be planting them.  I'm trying to make some kind of setting, not a mess.  Out front on that piece I mentioned, right now, it's a mess with tons of different plants.  I like everything blooming or green.  No mulch or spaced plants.
  My studio looks out onto my back garden.  The front is a step-child. The back is my baby.  My patio is pretty private.  One side is blocked by the garage and the other by tall Roses of Sharon.  That neighbor could still look out her window and see me.  I'm not hiding. That's okay.  I lounge around in good weather and read out there.  Today, I sat on the deck, drank my coffee and just looked at the treetops.  Coming from rowhouses all my life, this is heaven, even with bad neighbors.  (I was SO upset. I'm just starting to feel better and it's been since the beginning of July.  With Lupus, I'm worried about stress and depression. I feel like I lost two months of my life and going out west.  That worry never left my mind. There's actually a law against harassing old people down here, but it's treated like a law about watering dray horses.) So...I have the garden and a house bigger than I've ever had before.  It's easier to keep clean than the old rowhouse with carpeting.  The cats and dog shed like crazy so there's always floating fur congregating on the steps.  I hate that so I clean it, but it's not that time consuming.  I don't expect myself to clean overmuch; I'm 66.  
  As an older woman, I get "Honeyed, Dearied, and Sweetied" in restaurants. That's fine. I like it.  It's an easier life.  I get to paint and garden.  So maybe life will return to a normal now that the neighbors put up a fence. (They forced us to take ours down.)  It's a nice fence and my garden is coming along.
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Monday, August 05, 2013

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Fading Into the Woodwork and Surviving Well

Fading Into the Woodwork is Tolerable
Well, I not popular in school,  I was quiet, nice, fading into the woodwork, I remember virtually no names, and almost no one remembers me. I could have stayed home and still gotten the report cards. I would have been happier. Not that anybody back there would care, and I would love them to but since I can't change that, I'm happy for me. I'm a reasonably talented real artist--not like Aunt Jenny who used to paint farmhouses or a granddaughter who colors nicely. I'm inordinately proud I earned a scholarship to the same excellent art school as Eakins, and, well I can't remember names--some of my favorites. I've got a solo exhibition coming up. I just returned from three weeks in Europe with my brother. The fact that we're close, I'm still married to the same man (for 48 years), our two children are normal, smart, and good people--that's all success and it's a good life. We're down here in Delaware where I paint, garden, and care for the animals. There isn't that much more to life.
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Saturday, November 10, 2012

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Today is a disappointment day. One of the psychics on-line gave me the heads-up on the solo show. It's a thumbs down and some has to do with a creepy guy nixing it because he's jealous of my training and experience. And what little talent I have. And the rest has to do with three bad paintings among the ten. I just didn't have enough work that I hadn't shown there.  I was just looking at two artists work on here who are way more talented than I ever was.  I don't like the scary themes on their work, but they can really paint.  We can't all be wonderfully talented. I'm grateful I can paint and that I do what I do.  I can be second-rate but that rating goes down into the hundreds.  There's so much crap on-line, all over. People who can't paint a human being to save their lives, but think they're artists, and who am I to say they're not. I guess I am, but it's mean and I wouldn't say it to them. And at the art center! JeeZ, they have no idea!  Amazing the crap to which they give awards. (I went to visit last week. The good stuff won nothing. There really was some amateurish work up and two won awards.)  I sound like a snob and I don't like it. 
All my life I wanted to be noticed, to be respected.  Very recently, after only sixty-four years, I realized I like myself. I respect myself and I'd love to have a friend like me.  I'd still like my artwork to be shown and to sell some. It piles up. It does sell, which is nice. Usually, I know what's gonna sell.  Prices have a lot to do with it. If people can afford the piece and they want it, it's gone. No controversy there. I can paint some attractive paintings.  I like them! but I don't like them all. The remedy for that is to paint over the ones I don't like until eventually, I paint one I like.  Then, I hang it, sell it, or give it away, usually to our kids.  I'm still hurting today. It feels like an emotional kick in the gut.  In about 15 minutes, Harry and I will go off for dinner and drinks.  That should cure what ails me, or maybe just tomorrow.

Thursday, November 01, 2012

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Coping With the "Art World" In Suburbia


I think the Art Alliance down here is going to "green light" my applying next year. My friend, the psychic told me about the "green light" but that I wouldn't like the conditions.  Today, I ran into one of the head guys there who told me the committee had made their decisions but he told me nothing more.  So...I'm assuming the news won't be what I want.  I assume he would have hinted if the answer were positive.  So I'm upset. I'll get over it possibly by tomorrow. Or maybe the next day, but pretty soon.  It was a crap shoot in so many ways. So few openings and so many artists applying.  The committee is not "professional". I've seen some of their picks and they're not always good.  (The present show is an example. Their winners are the worst, literally and I'm not exaggerating.) It's sad, but that's how the Art world is. It is very much who you know and their personal taste plus what sells.  Either one of the three can be the only or their first consideration. Just reality and it hurts.  Getting attention in that world is serendipity, maybe, or whatever.

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Beautiful Chinese Jewelry

I think I'm addicted to buying cheap jewelry on Ebay. It's mostly all from China and I love most of it. I just put on a phony sapphire ring to sleep in. I love the appearance of it. I put away--hid--my two good rings because most of my real gold was stolen last year. I haven't been able to remember where I hid them. I may never remember. It's happened before.
With jewelry, we look at the beauty. Why does it matter if the stone came out of the ground or if it were manufactured? Because somebody can make a lot of money from the sale?  Isn't the beauty the same, or almost the same, unless you have one of those jeweler's eye things?  I suspect the whole "real" jewelry thing is total bullshit. Why spend the money? Status? Who knows what's real and what's not besides your close friends and relatives?  Does it mean your boyfriend really loves you? Not by a long shot proven by the millions of divorces every year leaving behind diamond rings.
Well, just a thought. And another: This ring I wanted to wear is rubbing against my next finger. Isn't it great it cost about $4.00 and not $4000?

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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My Life Now and.....

Tonight is tough. I've always felt weird, I thought I didn't fit in. I thought, if I just be myself, people won't like me, or God knows what. I don't know. It's not unusual, I realize that. I grew up with classy parents in a greed-driven dress-for- I success neighborhood.  It was a bad fit. I faded into the background, driven by fear.  Yeah, there were lots of crazy things going on and we'd moved from a neighborhood where I felt accepted and had friends.  In the "new" neighborhood, I was quiet, so shy.  I didn't speak up, didn't want to be at school, didn't really want to be at home.  And I was angry at everyone.  No one tried to draw me in, I was very alone in a Alice in Wonderland household.
I got out at sixteen, kidnapping a sweet young boy and having a baby.  Not a good choice for the time, but it worked out well for both of us as time went on. I earned a scholarship and earned college degrees and learned confidence as an artist.  But the anger still sits there.  I'm still hurt because dingbats didn't want to message me back, didn't want to be facebook friends.  Jeez, would I have liked them? Probably not. If they didn't want to talk to me, why not trust them as somehow divining that I wouldn't like them.  I'm not kidding myself.  I'm still a child hurting, wanting to be liked, accepted, respected.  I wish I could think myself out of this. I've found myself and I think I appreciate myself and what I have. I would love to be friends with me but somehow, knowing that doesn't end this garbage. Nevertheless, I think that's part of the key, if not all. I'm far from perfect and I'm not even interested in being perfect.  My parents, my family, were unusual and that's hard on kids, but as a grown up, I'm so grateful for their individuality, for what they gave me, for who I am.  I don't know why anybody wouldn't want to get to know me, but I'm intense, I know stuff, I'm curious, I could be intimidating.  I don't one up or any of that, but I'm a whole person. I stay away from people generally. Their coldness, their cautiousness, and guardedness upsets me. I don't like it and don't want to be around it. To me, it's creepy.  I know it works for the other person, but I don't like to be around it and it's so much of what I see.  So here I am, painting away for Christmas and getting ready for bedtime reading. I wish Jerry were still alive. I could have talked with him about this.  I lost him six long years ago. Nothing more to be said.  Losing someone so close to your heart never heals. That's just the way it is. I'm still happy I'm me and he was a part of the path.