WONDERING FREE ( LIKE A W*MBLE)

Wondering what to write, how to write it and then going to do the garden instead, such is my life at the moment. Thinking about what to paint, needing a change of artistic direction and then having feelings of hopelessness and being lost.

Discovering this site is up for renewal and the bank says no. It is raining outside and now it is blue, can I ever bloody win? In truth I have actually changed my working day I paint in the day time and do laptop stuff upstairs in the evening. In the in between periods I do bits of garden.

Clearing out old stuff I have no use for and making space cause no one else is going to do it, I may well find some more long lost things along the way. Seriously thinking about doing a regular vlog, J says it would be a better medium for me to communicate my thoughts as things can get lost in between my brain and my fingers , this just causes confusion and is no good for anyone.

Wondering, (I wonder a lot) what I shall be studying for next years bout of university, something I enjoy naturally and again something I can actually write about without drowning in syrup. ( Not literally) This new setup they have on WP is Peeing me off it wants to do strange stuff when I least expect it and already it has devoured one lot of writing and refused to give it back, now it is refusing to start new paragraph’s. If J was here she could probably fix it, in the meantime I shall have to learn myself a new skill and decide I need a drink when it is done. J is better at giving up the booze than me, the stuff once made me violently ill… Nowadays.. ?

I shall have a mug of tea instead.

WHILST LISTENING TO LUDWIG VAN B.

I could write some inflammatory rantings here about a host of issues including Messrs. Johnson and Trump. I am not going to, they both have a job to do and whatever that job is and whoever they are working for let them get on with it.

Conspiracy theories and that sort of thing used to take up a not small bit of my day.  However a few years ago I grew up and stopped bothering my head about the NWO and Bohemia Grove and took up spirituality instead. The current lock down is providing plenty of time for study of this kind  and with university done with for the year even more so. Part of this spiritual practice is creating or more more precisely painting, I have been doing loads of painting and am running out of Turpentine. (Though I have plenty of white spirit) which does not smell nearly as nice. I am also halfway to convincing myself I am in desperate need of a major re-supply of paint when in fact I have plenty and this is probably the thing that is causing me to have acid reflux  the  supposed lack of paint.  Once a while ago it was finances, now it is paint and whilst finances are not great, they are the least of my concerns, the chief of which is paint and to be honest only paint.

I could not give a flip about not having a ‘job’, I have chosen the life path of an artist if the authorities want me to go work in a supermarket and stack cans of beans, that is their business. I ought to be applying to galleries and posting more stuff on platforms like this instead of wasting time trolling through job sites getting annoyed cause they all want you to be a team player and neurotypical both of which I am not.

My sister did mention I could go find work at a particular place,saying they employ dunder arses there, I think she was either joking or noticed my displeasure, cause she then said you will be smarter than the rest of them.

I looked and they have no vacancies around here.

Thinking of lack creates lack , think yourself to be skint, poor, broke then that will surely be your lot. Swap these negatives around, tell yourself you have all you need and more is coming and you have plenty, then it will be so.

I have plenty of Turpentine, the air is saturated with it.  I have plenty of paint as well, the cleaning rags are covered in the stuff and so is half my wardrobe. I lack for nothing and my cleaning jar runneth over.

It is 23 days now since I last had a drink and feel a lot o better for it as well, whether I ever drink again remains to be seen right now I am getting along with innumerable mugs of tea and J is doing the same though not perhaps so much. She is well and is out of the place where she went, we will be re-united very soon.

I really must get on and develop this site and make a gallery of recent and perhaps not so recent artwork.

 

 

THE NON DEMON DRINK.

J is going to hospital today, she will probably be away for a good four weeks maybe a little longer. In many respects I ought to be going with her but due to various constraining factors that is not currently possible. You see we both have the same condition in that we live with excruciating anxiety disorders that can make life unbearable at times and we both like to drink, Alcohol helps deal with the anxiety but it does not help with the depression we both live with, we medicate ourselves with depressants when we both take anti-depressants, which rather defeats the object of the initial exercise in taking the medication.

Up to around three years ago I had not had a drink for ten years or more, then I had a drink and in that time have managed three days without drinking not bad on 50+ units week average.

It is never the money that motivates me to stop, though this time I may well make the exception to the rule and enjoy having something to put aside each month. I also look forward to saying good bye to the hang overs and the shakes and generally feeling a lot healthier. I shall also be looking to get some kind of counselling or  go to AA meetings. Something I did not do the first time around.

I have found, as may some readers that when I choose to do anything in the affirmative to make positive steps to clear up my act, it gets poo poo-ed and people say it is your Irish blood  or that’s not much. It has nothing to do with your ancestral blood or the intake it is an addiction which is like any other illness you have to admit there is a problem before you seek help and then have the fortitude and willingness to undertake the cure.

I have J she is in safe hands, I also have the cats they don’t know I have an alcohol issue but are a great comfort at any time of day or night.

Jessica writes

To say we are living in Interesting times would be an understatement. I do not think I have ever spent so much time on virtual lock down since I was put in  isolation during my school days, and that was due to the punitive regime in force, not any contagion or disease. You could say Public (private) school taught me  a couple of valuable life lessons, the other being making use of whatever it is you have at hand and occupying every moment you have with something to prevent madness setting in.

If you are lucky enough to live by yourself like I am and are by nature a bit of an introvert then you may well know where I am coming from, for someone who likes his dinner at a regular time and would rather go to the library than out clubbing I am in my element. I have the cats, The garden, my art and the laptop. Bingo! my only complaint is I am rather low on the Pasta front so may have to go out and look for some in the next couple of days.

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Throughout this last week of shutting myself away, the weather has been kind and the sun has shone. Despite the cold breeze it has been nice and I am glad it has not been wet and grey cause that would be no fun whatsoever. Some good news I started doing my annual planting of the seeds a few years ago with the idea, that some of them will turn into food, I now have baby plants sticking their heads up through the soil. The kitchen windowsill is working its magic again. I am using Greenhouse magic as well, but Beans  and Peas take a little longer. Everything is well wrapped up in Muslin so ought be snug and warm, the sun shall do the rest.

J is doing well and bearing her load with the fortitude and resilience of her people, she is in safe hands and we speak several times a day. She is largely absent of the news at the moment, so we laugh about politicians and family members instead.

Meanwhile I must give thanks for my continuing good health, my international dialling card and the multitude of stuff I can occupy myself with until such a time when things get back to normal, or should I say Less interesting.

 

 

A TRUE STORY ABOUT GETTING DRUNK

This article is about Alcohol and the effects it has on the male teenage brain. It may get quite graphic so if you are of a sensitive disposition, please read on.

I only remember the beginning of this story and it’s subsequent aftermath. The bit in the middle was given to me by various third parties with whom I was at school with when it all happened.

My old school was a boarding school, a fine English public school (the sort where you pay to be educated) One of the perks we had was being allowed out of school bounds at weekends to go into the local town and socialise. In other words get drunk. It was around Mid October and an acquaintance  was celebrating his birthday and wanted to do something special to mark this happy day. It being a Saturday, and boring it was decided the best thing would be to go Midsomer N (The local town) and get drunk. Just like most weekends actually, Bath being the other option.  there were four of us the birthday boy who shall be referred to as B. A Spanish guy called M  and then there was C.  Another person declined, he said at the time he thought something awful would happen. He was right.

This is the point where the story becomes unclear. All I know we bought the drink and went out on top of the old slag heap. I remember a bottle of Coconut and Rum based drink in a white bottle. A bottle of nice Red I had pinched from my Dads wine cellar. I still have a morbid dislike of Coconut’s and their odour to this day. The Bottle of Red was Spanish and probably quite expensive. There would have been other drink as well. Most likely Whisky and Beer.

I do know we sang Happy Birthday as per tradition, we also sang it in French, though probably not very well. With writing My memories of this day seem to be coming back to me. Maybe there is a healing taking place here. I always recall C as being squeamish, it was not hard to make him gag and I do recall wanting to go toilet, I squatted behind a tree and probably used Pine needles. (gross, but necessary) The next bit? The turd was impaled on a stick and I chased my fellows around the summit of the heap. C went Green and gagged and the toilet got spread around a bit. I ought to mention here that my sense of humour can be somewhat inappropriate. Or at least used to be, it’s nice to think I have grown up a little bit since then.

I seem to recall some of the locals and their motorbike and C attempting to ride it. Something about loosing the clutch handle that rendered the thing useless and the owners being annoyed. This is what I recall and partly what was said to me later.

I do not remember running down the side of the heap and pulling a moony at a couple of Policemen. If you do not know what a moony is, it is the exposing of ones naked backside to some unsuspecting individuals or group of people. I guess choosing a pair of coppers was a bad idea. As was vomiting on their boots,  the same could be said for telling one or both of them to. “Fuck off Pork.” When they tried to pick me up.

According to the other witnesses the police wanted to take me in or at least back to the school, which being very noble and proper minded would probably have resulted in all sorts of bother. Anyway the offer was declined reasons being it would cause all manner of trouble, expulsions and that sort of thing. I would like to apologise at this point to A, M and C for the trouble this adventure must have caused. I have no idea how they got me home, but I did hear the  driver refused to take the unconscious, vomit covered public school boy, on his bus. So I guess they must have dragged/ carried me back ‘home.’ A distance of about 3 miles, it must have been nightmarish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was looking for a job and I lost a job.

And heaven knows I am not miserable now.  (Apologies to Morrissey)

Did I mention, I do not have a job anymore? It is nothing unusual, the workplace and I do not seem to get along very well. Indeed the longest time I have held a job down for is a little over two years. At a rough reckoning I would say the average length of time between starting and finishing is 3-4 months.  The longer lasting ones push the average up, the rest of them, bring it back down. I am best off being self employed, be my own manager. That way I can hardly sack myself, if I were to do so, I could be reinstated the next morning, or the same day. Who knows?

I am done with food, making it,selling it or having anything to do with it. (Apart from  eating it) and  most things retail can F**K OFF.  I am considering sales (of what) and want to be an artist.  I can honestly say not much else interests me. Give me something creative and worthwhile to do, a decent salary would help.

Not being in work, provides me with lots more time to study and paint. This I have to say is the best thing about being ‘unemployed’

Triphammer falls, NY state USA
Oils on paper 2019-2020

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OIl on paper 2020. Model unknown

 

 

 

Work and that

So yet another year has passed, and for that matter so has  another job/employer. This time over signing a piece of paper. It would seem’s  my happy little brain is not very good at remembering such things. Never mind the place was badly run when I started there back last October and from there it has just got worse. Where else, would you find clothing and books ending up in the fridge next to the Yogurt and Cheese?

I feel half tempted  to mention the name of the place here,but shall content myself with saying Heyford Hill. Make of it what you will.

Happier news now, I am having a spurt of growth in the creative department, and am pressing ahead with making some business out of it all. I am, if you have been visiting here regularly have realised by now I am not very good at holding down employment. Well I can barely sack myself,  can I?

I don’t want to post anything art wise on this post, this does not mean I have been lazy. Far from it, I have simply played around with camera’s enough for one day and am feeling hungry, it is after all lunch time.

Instead I thought I would share a photo my best friend/Fiance took of me a couple of day ago. We aim to get all three of the cats involved at some point.

 

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BTW Jessica is my real name, and any idea’s of my being trans should not be entertained. I just happen to enjoy wearing women’s clothes.

 

Taking good care of yourself is a good idea

I have not been looking after myself of recent, Tonight’s training proved that. Normally I have a high pain threshold,tonight even small blows were agony and halted me in my tracks, I had to stop and surrender to resting and being honest with myself.  I have not been sleeping either waking up at ridiculously early times with only 4-5 hours sleep and not being able to go back to sleep. Sometimes I do not sleep at all, or it seems that way.

TBH I have been drinking a little too much of recent without any let up, apart from at work. Today I have had (and still have) the worlds worst hangover. I wake up feeling stiff and sore and my left hand side is wracked with pain when I awaken. I do not want sympathy, I need TLC and plenty of personal care.

I am glad I have found the space to do some writing, as I cannot paint at the moment, maybe from the alcohol or is it the time of year and it all just pisses me off. Xmas is never the best time for me. The whole thing pee’s me off. Probably the lack of sunshine. Maybe a combination of different factors. I ought to perhaps get out and do some gardening, rake up the leaves and get some fresh air in my lungs,having spent more than enough time indoors and very little out of may well be a factor.

In other things, I still have a job. (miracle) And I have gained a little more weight. ( The garden will help deal with that) Today I tidied up the spare room and rigged up the old desktop PC as a backup for the laptop. I shall be posting some artwork soon. A friend of mine recently died, at least she is free from pain and suffering now.

Cats,identity and other things

So for the first time in a little while I am finding some time to write, it is important to remember that writing like painting is part of creativity, but does writing take the sting, the tension of painting? I do not know, I feel I am a better painter than a writer but that is because whatever I am writing soon dies a death whereas painting goes on. It’s just the subject matter that changes, painting is my preferred medium of self expression. Perhaps I ought write more.

So what has been going on, not much to be honest, work ‘forgot’ to pay me for two weeks and after 3 days of bad temper and a lot of emotional energy they coughed up, that meant I could feed the cats and get Mr. Ninja his much needed medication and that is all that I wanted to see done.

otherwise I am enjoying work, though I would rather be painting, I guess we cannot have everything, I would rather be working and have money than be painting and have next to nothing. Actually that is a lie I would rather be painting and be wealthy, sod stacking the shelves and checking the dates in those nasty cold fridges that make my nose run and torment my chest, making me cough and wheeze like an asthmatic Walrus.

This cold I have had of recent seems to have affected my chest something chronic and my nose is falling off. I do not like colds and their ilk.

Otherwise apart from work, I do not know who I am where I am going or what I am becoming I do not consider myself Male or for that matter Female. I think I am a human being or am I being Human? I would like it to be known I am a person, an individual.

I would like to be known as Jessica, at least. I shall be posting some artwork very soon.

And this is for

Dear R

(How are you my beautiful, brave friend?)

You asked me to write something about myself, so here it is. It’s easier than writing on messenger (I think)

Where do I start ? well I could mention them Catholics that raised me I think I already have, I do not need to describe church and the stuff they used to brain wash you with. ” Jesus died for your sins” ” Thats his business, I never asked him to.”  The good monks as they were called were horrified and singled me out for special treatment. ( Not true) but it certainly caused trouble. Detentions and so on.

Have you read the story about the shot gun cartridges yet? Please do it’s one of the funny ones and was such good fun making those explosions as was raiding the chemistry lab stores at school and obtaining bomb making equipment. These days I would be stewing in Guantamano bay or wherever it is they lock bomb makers and terrorists now. It was always our dream to blow up the Abbey tower with that stupid big bell in it during Sunday mass, that would have been such fun. Never got round to it.

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Briefcases, a trombone and probably some other places as well, do you know the laxative story yet, it’s on FB  though I may well publish it here as well. Then there is the week  of the aerosol canisters (school again) A few of us were bored and started sucking on deodorant cans  and getting fucked up on that stuff. It tasted horrible and that was the good stuff and left your mouth all dried out like the bottom of a parrot’s cage.

We drank like mad men in that place as well, cause we were bored and there was bugger all else to do at weekends. My SEN school was fairly normal compared to this place, mind you there we had no chance to do mischief and if you did , were caught Dog help your sorry arse. It would get beaten into next week I held the school caning record for a good while there. Something I am still proud of  and I do like being spanked. By the right person of course. But that’s another story altogether.

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Taken in Oxford around 1999/2000

Thank you for giving me the impetus to write again, it provides a greater release than just painting and I do enjoy it so.  Well i am going to eat my dinner now and drink some of that Cider before it goes off (old joke, older story, please ask) Then I really must call up my very good friend J and make sure she is OK she was sectioned a little while ago and is in Bing … would love to get out there sometime but not before she is out and better again.

I really ought to write some more about wearing skirts and not having any trousers no more. Soon ok

Keep shining

Jessica x