Remembering People Still in My Head

 I just looked!  What I saw made me feel sick.  "Birds of a feather"  But I liked the man!  He was one of the very few people I felt comfortable with!  Maybe everyone did.  That's why they all want to talk to him.  

After a while, when I'd been home, maybe when I had moved to another state, I had wanted to talk to them.  Then I realized, no!, I didn't.  Some were assholes, literally had a screw missing, or their aroma was success and their noses were programmed to pick up only that scent.  I thought they were shit.  Ha!  Here they were, thinking they ruled the world, and I looked back at them, seeing golden greed and the belief of lies.  Not my perfume.

In their worlds, I was worth nothing.  No one with sensibility was.  Art, feh.  Music, well maybe, if they were entertained.  Pretend they had class?  Could they even spell it? Sometimes, Catholic School graduated snooty vaginas who paid their religious dues, and shrunk all the others.  Kudos to my Daughters-in-Law who never, so it wasn't a blanket.

Me, without self-worth, said nothing, I would smile if they dropped out a fourth floor window.  I still don't see them clearly and it's too easy to hit my self-abnegation.  One dead, I don't care.  She thought I would speak to her after she refused to be honest with me.  That I would wish her well, hope the cancer flew away.  No, I didn't care.  At all.  People die.  Everyday.  Lip service is convenient, but she received no gift from me.  Not even.

If I truly appreciated myself, I wouldn't care.  They would go their own way.  I wouldn't notice.  I wouldn't need those I don't care for to notice.  And I didn't care for them.  Color, ethnicity, race, all bullshit.  I don't care. I like humans who know what it is to be human.  

I do appreciate myself.  God, it's good to be smart.  I was born of a brilliant family and passed it on.  I was too crazy to use mine.  Those assholes and etc. didn't know, I wasn't their type, didn't have their smell.  I still have a ways to go.  I can see it now.  It makes me sad and it's taken fifty years to get to this place.  To me, those holes were not even bumps in the road!  They don't exist!  They never existed in my sight.  Would that I could just be where I want.  What can I do?  

I can talk.  And talk.  People listen.  A lot of people.  One would have been good.  But the numbers climb.  There's a beanstalk and I'm on it.  People know.  Women especially.  Talking will help, but not end it.  I will look, and keep looking.  This is hard, but ........................

https://youtu.be/N_KUZ4eEy3o

#wisewoman
#psychicPhenomenom
#spiritguides
#earthLearning
#talkingwithguides
#pastlives
#remotevisits
#artistpsychicmediumwisewoman
#lifecoach
#contentment
#findinglovedonesinHeaven
#talkingtothedead
#messagesfromheaven
#spiritsbyjaynee
#psychicmedium
#sensibilelife
#loveorfear
#givelove
#lifepurpose

-

The Best............
-

When Life Throws Bricks

 I met, either my angel, or one of them, last night.  I am so thankful.  I did one of the meditations online that was supposed to have the listener meet her guardian angel, or something like that....and I did.  I'll have to draw him/her because a description wouldn't do it.  She/he had wings though.  Maybe she was a fairy, a loving, supportive one.  I am totally amazed by these positive, loving energies around me, and my pop-up issues from literally, seventy years ago.  I assume no one will see this and that's fine.  I can't say all the energy floating around on here is positive.  I wish I could.  We're human and flawed.

Interviewed Janis Joplin just now. One of my special favorites, yes, from yore. Felt wonderful! Did David Crosby a few days ago. Up uP uP tALKING TO SPIRITS HAS ITS DIVIDENDS.

I'm back. Husband of 60 years has kidney failure, stage 4. My fifteen and 1/2 year old German Shepherd mix has cancer. There is more cancer around me than I ever thought possible. He's alive now and so is the dog. Also the 17 year old cat in my lap.

I belong to a psychic group. At first, I was very excited, then the group grew to about 500, mostly women. Unlike me, they're almost all guarded and say nothing. If the host talks, then they answer. Someone actually recommended another "Medium" instead of me or someone else. The one she recommended is a snotty creep. Uptight, waspy, jealous. I couldn't get a reading from any of them, yet I was happy to read anyone for free. I'm too open and honest. People like those, even if they're psychic, are conformist. I have only the one thing in common and it's nothing. Sadly, everything ends like this. I always seem to find a group or a person I like, only to find down the road, that they're shit. Not for me. I'm so disappointed, hurt, and angry. I am such a good compassionate person, a loving person, and they don't have any idea where I'm coming from. My story. I haven't been appreciated. I'm tremendously angry, but anger is not what I want. It's really hurt. Those women are afraid. They've never been in long-term therapy. Shadow selves? They just don't know. They look at the academic stuff around finding oneself. That's not how to find it. I found it. I appreciate myself. It wouldn't matter if they did, although I'd feel better. I am a whole person and they aren't. I'm not perfect and fI still have issues, but I am. I really am. Jerry said, "All you have to do is be". I do, Jer. I am. It's a surprise to see how much more I understand about being a human. I learned it while trying to get calm (which I'm not yet). I need to learn to shut up when I'm with toxic folks. It's still a problem. And coping with being left out. Even from stuff I wouldn't want to be in. Oh, issues. We all have them and we take them into death (of our meat bodies).

I really do not want to be angry at those women. They're doing their best. I was given an incredible gift of psychotherapy for 50 years.
I interview spirits and talk about how to keep enjoying life when life throws bricks at you.

From Lupus to Sciatica to Overeating

  I'm tired.  I need a break today.  I'm sick of looking for emails lost within junk mail I saved by accident.  I'm about as organized as my three year old granddaughter.  She might do better. This whole business with the goddamn mirror that the truck knocked off on 4th Street in Philly and the rotten adjuster from Liberty --is there more?  Oh, yeah, getting the business to clean out the attic from the raccoon....and something I gave up on.  I forget now.  I can call any spirit and tell what that condescending jerk is feeling and hoping, but...at least, he wasn't lying.  (I never forgive people who lie to my face. The neighbor who makes up ridiculous lies is funny, although he doesn't mean to be. People like trmp, who can't stop themselves...it's an illness.)  I want to give everything to the lawyer and never hear about it again until I get the money they owe me.  I don't care about people paying me for psychic stuff.  I do it for free all the time because I love to do it and I don't need the money, but when an insurance company is supposed to pay me back for something covered in the policy, I want it.  My psychic teacher, Susan Lynn, says there has to be an exchange of energy with psychic info.  I love giving it, I guess if people love getting it, that's an exchange.  I do charge, but I let it go, easily.  

  I was supposed to spend time with my twin--from two lives ago--today, but I'm overwhelmed by the bullshit.  Normally, I'd go.  I have always gone, but now, I just want to go back to bed.  I'm up and ready to leave for my MRI that's somewhere down here in suburbland.  Delaware.  I love it.  I love my house, but it needs constant help.  I built this beautiful four-season garden that I kept up.  That's how I ruined my back, from using my favorite shovel.  I'll include a photo of the painting.  I never considered how it would be done if I didn't have the energy to do it.  Now I know.  I need someone to get the pathways cleaned up.  Who's going to pull out the weeds?  The ivy has to be pulled off the trees and the garage has to be free of weeds and ivy too.  Oh dear.  I can barely walk now.  Acupuncture yesterday.  And it will be for weeks.  I'm grateful I can do it.  Why are all the Lupies people who don't rest unless they absolutely must?

  Tomorrow, unless I have a problem, I'll see my oldest granddaughter.  She's all of ten, going on sixteen.  I took her out to her favorite restaurant within walking distance.  (Once you park in Philly, you don't move, because you will lose your spot.)  She currently has a broken foot and is on crutches.  I'm just on a cane.  (The acupuncture worked because I couldn't have walked one and a half blocks before.)  She brought a lot of her food home, but I ate mine and was sorry later.  Fried onions were always such a treat, but not this time.

  And now, this is the Art I'm doing.

  These little advertisements were taken from old pieces.  I sold the bottom one.  I don't know about the other one.  I actually did a large mixed media piece.  I just have to take a photo.. If you haven't taken a look at my YouTube channel, please do, and push the buttons.  I'm having a wonderful time using these new skills and being myself.

#BadArtistphotosm, #Paintings,
#psychicreading, #psychicmedium , #psychicreader, #psychicdevelopment,
#psychicpodcast, #podcastJaynee, #podcastempath., #empathPodcast ,#empathFB,
#TalkingtoSpirits, #psychicreadings, #EmpathBlogger,
#psychicBlogger, #psychicPainter, #PainterPsychic, #PhiladelphiaArtist, LupusPsychic

Whatever Life Throws At Ya!

 I have so many FB pages; I created them before and then couldn't delete them. Someone else deleted the main one. The best thing is I don't really care. Stuff happens. I would like to build up my psychic medium practice. I can't believe how good I am, but then, I can see spirits, I'm an empath, and I can look into movements. Plus, I've had fifty years of psychotherapy. (I was walked through working at the BRT and long before that, through the Academy.) M y first therapist is waiting for me to kick the bucket so I can work with him. He's a psychoanalyst, the old Freudian type. He must have realised I was an empath fifty years ago. Or something. I'm not kidding. lol Here's my podcast address:https://www.youtube.com/@JayneePainterjayneMedium Just in case you're interested.

It's almost Netflix Coma time. I take from 7 on, to just relax and watch movies or read. Not much reading though till late. I need to go give the animals their nightly treats. One is asleep in front of me, on the desk. Downstairs, the contractor is putting in the new storm door. The old one suddenly cracked into a million pieces. That's the latest. Before that, we had a flood around the front door that ruined the floor in the family room and the wall. Then, I went to a conference in Chicago, fell, and broke my shoulder. After that, we discovered we had mice in my chest of drawers next to the upstairs cat's food. Next, a waterfall in the kitchen. We needed a new roof. Then, we were told we needed a new air conditioning unit. Then a catalytic converter for the car. In Philly for Harry's doctor visit, a truck passed by and took off our driver's side mirror. I can barely walk due to sciatica. Nothing yet has touched it. Liberty Mutual sent their guy to see the waterfall damage and he decided to look at things that were either from seventeen years ago and call the current damage old. He totally ignored what I said. The truck folks kept saying they didn't get the photos of the damage. Liberty Mutual said it wasn't their problem.. We still haven't gotten anyone to clean out the attic. I forgot to mention that when we looked in the attic to see if the waterfall damaged anything there, we saw a raccoon. We paid to capture her and the people were very humane, very caring.

I just ordered stuff to sage the house today. I will have to somehow walk around the house outside with it. I don't know how I'll do that since it's agony to walk. I've been using a rollator, which is a walker with a seat, to get around, but I can walk only a little then I need to rest. The pain is a killer. I'm ready for anything that stops the pain.

Lupus! Or, it might be old person IBS. Nobody's telling me. Anymore, I feel sad to cancel appointments, but I've resigned myself. I'm trying to regrow hair, using Minoxidil. That lupus fun hair loss. I used to buy wigs, but I could see on the podcasts, they didn't look so good. I haven't seen hair growing, but I'm continuing for now. The IBS can be a problem, but it's best to roll with it, because I can't fix it. Now, that I can barely walk, I see the perspective. Does Lupus have anything to do with inflammation? Ha! You better believe it! Prednisone doesn't seem to help the sciatica though, nor the mysterious IBS. I still have it from my neurologist who's under indictment now and not practicing. He listened and I loved him. Oh, well. Humans do stuff they shouldn't all the time. We make mistakes. I had one specialist touch me inappropriately. It happens. I minded and I switched. Life. I'm 76.

I'll go give my furbabies their treats. It's past their time and they've been looking at their little watches. The painting is of Susan Ginsberg. She came to me last year, in a vision, and asked me to paint her, Panda, and Rocky. Panda licked my face! I finished the painting in March, this year. Needless to say, Susan was a good friend, and one of the loveliest people I knew. I especially like the non-realism of the painting. Not too much, but it's there.

#BadArtistphotos #paintingsofEurope #PaintingsofEuropeantrips
#psychicreading #psychicmedium #psychicreader #psychicdevelopment
#psychicpodcast #podcastJaynee #podcastempath #empathPodcast #empathFB
#TalkingtoSpirits #psychicmediumreadings #EmpathBlogger
#psychicMediumBlogger #psychicMediumPainter #GoodPainterPsychic #SusanGinsberg #LupusComplications  #Lupus  #DogKisses  #PaintingsFromVisions  #Therapy  #Therapists #IBS  #Sciatica  #SciaticaPain

--

April 17, 2024

Looking Inside at SCOTUS, the Royals, Trump, etc. & Video

   This is all conjecture, what I think, my opinion.  For entertainment purposes only.  

  Just writing to see what I can do..........Mood of SCOTUS:  Males with support from Amy C.B. pushing ahead.to install what they believe should be the law of the land.  They absolutely don't care what the population thinks.  The men there believe women should take a second-class status.  They feel threatened and hate the liberal agenda.  They would really love to see women be dismissed from their jobs as in Afghanistan  They're sick of all this LGBT etc.  and want it stopped.

  Trump:  Eventually, trump will lose Maralogo and it will be bulldozed.  Trumpers will make it a shrine..Ivana said there were papers and more in her casket, that Donald is a hoarder.  He can't help it.

  Princess Catherine isn't dying.  She's got a serious abdominal problem that has turned out to be cancer.   She's terrified and sure she's going to die, but she isn't.  My guide seems to be saying she will not die from this.  She's good at hiding pain. Right now, she's absolutely bonkers, but she's going to calm down.  She's blaming Megan and the aggravation Harry and Megan caused for the cancer, but she's going to realize that's nuts.

  Princess Megan  is okay.  She's learned to ignore the crap coming out of the English tabloids. She says she's really having a good time. She says she loves her husband and her children, the people around her are great, and she's doing charitable work.  I'm personally glad.

  Prince Harry  is fine.  He knows how William is and feels sad because he knows the pressure on William is immense.  William resents Harry's freedom and Harry loves it.  He does feel bad about what's going on in the royal household, but there's little Harry can do.  Harry suffers from depression.  (After losing his mom at such a young age and being brought up to act Royal, who wouldn't?)  He's loving living in California, in the USA.  Yes, he still loves the UK and would do a lot if the Royals allowed him.  It is never going to be comfortable though.  Archie and Bet will be able to return if they choose.  They won't.

  Soon to be King, Prince William covers his depression and feelings of being trapped by drinking and pretending.  He's known to be an angry drunk and to have a serious girlfriend, younger than his wife.  Also, Will's girlfriend doesn't have to care about what anyone thinks.  

  Will is an angry guy.  He loves his children.  The love he felt from his mother, Princess Diana, was the only demonstrative close relationship he ever had.  He did love Catherine, his wife, but has slowly moved away from her as she developed physical problems, had to follow the Royal rules.  He feels obligated to "love" her, as he is obligated to live his entire public life a particular way.

  Oh!  Just got input from my guide.  Jared is afraid of trump, afraid to be with him, talk to him, go with him.  Ivanka understands, although she would like to be away from Jared too.  I don't feel him being with her.  Jared will not help trump with money.  He really has no money to spare (from his viewpoint).  He feels like dying, terrified of going to jail, would swear he did the best he could and helped people, and is a good person.  He doesn't count the broken machinery going to Democrats during Covid.  He thinks that was a joke.  Ivanka doesn't care either way.  Money and children.  The goal is to make money--as much as possible and more, and have children.  They matter to her.  Nothing else matters to her.  Family matters to Jared.  Ivanka matters to him, as does his own father. 

  #TheRoyals  #Trump #Ivanka #Jared  #Maralogo #FutureofMralago #PrinceWilliam  #PrinceHarry   #PrincessCatherine  #PrincessMegan  #PrincessDiana  #SCOTUSmood #jayneepsychicmedium #messagesfromheavenbyjaynee #spiritsbyjaynee  #psychicthoughts

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

Messages From Heaven by Jaynee on YouTube

https://youtube.com/live/3r4jUh50DTw?feature=share  I don't know how to get it here if it doesn't come as it's supposed to do.

  I have about 1000 subscribers to my "show" on YouTube.  I usually make the videos in the evening and I don't tell folks when I'll be on.  It's too much pressure.  I'm not doing this for fame or fortune.  It feels good because I'm lonely and a bit cloistered.  My guides have softly maneuvered me to this place with the intention of helping people live lives that feel better.  Explaining how to deal with nasty neighbors and coworkers is important.  Nobody told me.  I hope I can tell someone.  It doesn't matter how many people see my videos or if they watch the whole thing.  If they get anything, it's a win.  I am supposed to talk about psychic phenomena, but less than I imagined.  It's making life easier, more manageable, that's the deal.  

  I don't need to monetize the channel.  I'm retired. So far, I have enough.  I use my own money on anything needed for the channel and I keep it low.  This is all a big deal to me, but in reality, there are at least one million channels with people baring their hearts or giving good information.  Whatever.  My little piece is very small, but to me, satisfying.  It's a big deal.

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

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

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 

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  

   

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  

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

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

  

 

  

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.

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.

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.

  

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.

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

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