Gallery-Written · Life · Marriage · Mind & Spirit~Reflection, Habits & Self Care · Uncategorized

She Gathers Rain.

Ya know what? Marriage can be weird. It can really stretch you. Most people would assume (I think) that I have a decent marriage. And I do. We don’t beat on each other, and to my knowledge we don’t cheat on each other. We are good partners. BUT, the last several years we’ve gone through many changes! And with those changes we’ve had growing pains. We have been the best and worst of friends. And although I love him, there have been times that I thought I hate him. Although I had never been a jealous person, following a friends divorce, there were times I absolutely convinced myself he had to be cheating too. And there have been times I absolutely hated myself. Ironically because I myself have (mentally) flirted with a line we swore we would never cross. Through the years, when we have struggled, I wondered if this marriage is right for me. I think we both found it easier at times to tell the other person what they’re doing wrong, rather than look at ourselves. There have been times I wondered if it would be easier to throw in the towel. But somehow we never did. The last couple years we’ve gone through a lot of pain and loss, both together and individually. And it was challenging because we both had to deal with these things in our own way. It’s challenging because we can both be “fixers,” it was hard to allow each other to just go through what we needed to. He immersed himself in work. I expressed it outwardly through the arts. And although I had been feeling great, I’ve been in a lot of pain recently. I’ve also been pretty emotional as sift through a lifetime of buried shit. And as I peel back each layer I’ve been telling him everything that I’ve been holding back in my head and heart. And it’s been overwhelming for him I think, he doesn’t love talking about emotions. Sometimes it even seemed to make him angry. Sometimes I thought he wasn’t listening. Sometimes I thought he didn’t care. He’d ask me why I’m putting myself through this torture. But something inside of me just knows I need to do this, and I couldn’t stop now even if I tried.

Tonight though I was sitting naked, crying in the shower, trying to get some relief from the pain. He tried to comfort me. He didn’t try to fix anything. He didn’t tell me this too shall pass (I know it will). He said he was sorry I’m hurting. He said sometimes I make him think of the song “She gathers rain.” He wondered if it’s what I’ve been going through. And when he played it I just cried even more. Although I think and hope this marriage has what it takes, I know I can’t control anything within it except myself. And I know what I’ve believed about love has evolved. I know most people don’t want to hear it, but I know this will heal me. I know I am whole. And I also know that the more I love myself the better I am getting at loving and allowing others to love me.

I read a quote the other day that said, “sometimes love doesn’t meet us at our best, it meets us at our mess.” And as we shift into yet another chapter I think it may be true. Because as I sat weeping in that shower I thought I don’t need anyone to “get me” anymore but in his own way I think this guy actually does. Maybe he always did? He sees me. And I’ve never loved him more!

Gallery-Written · Mind & Spirit~Reflection, Habits & Self Care · Uncategorized

Holding back.

Hey all, Jessie here. Just keeping it sexy in Sask! Ha! 😄 I was out for my walk and I was thinking about what I’m doing with this page. If you’ve been here awhile you’ve heard me say before that I just wanted to make art and feel good. And that’s true, that’s the goal. But lately it feels like I’m all over the place, and so is this blog. The blog is about life though, and trying to figure out how to live my best life, so maybe that’s ok? Maybe this is a part of the process? I keep thinking about why I started this project. There are so many reasons. But a big one was that I just felt so restless. I’m somewhat isolated and often alone and although I would try not to, if I did express loneliness or try to connect through social media on my personal page I just ended up feeling even more lonely, embarrassed and misunderstood. I guess I started wondering if anyone really values my presence or even my voice. Don’t get me wrong I know there are people who care about me, but I’ve never felt like anyone really gets me. It’s not their fault though. I don’t really let anyone see all of me. Too often I hold back, or I bend and mould myself into some preconceived notion of who I think they expect me to be. And though I created this as an outlet, and it’s been surprisingly therapeutic, there’s still a loud voice inside of me screaming ‘who the fuck do you think you are though? What’s the point of this? You’re just some goofy girl with mediocre talents from some small town. Why should anyone care about your voice?

And so I hold back. Back from the fierce as fuck, confident, fun and powerful self that I know is in me too. Back from the stories, thoughts and projects I want to do and share with y’all. Sometimes I get on a roll and come out of the cave, but before long I crawl back in because I fear an eye roll on your end, afraid of some silent vibes that I’m a bit too big for these boots.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I’ve been told I’m ‘too much’. That I’m too silly, too serious, too chatty, too shy, too childish, that need to stop complaining, be more positive. I’m an all vibes are good vibes kinda girl, in a ‘positive vibes only’ kinda world. And I myself have thought I should be different, hold back. But I’m kinda starting to think——F*ck all that?

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I think we are all meant to shine. Something deep down feels like I’m meant for something bigger, that there’s more to life than ‘this’. Something in me so badly wants and needs to share my message with the world, it’s there just waiting to break free. But there’s also something deep down holding me back.

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Sometimes I feel like I’ll always be an amateur at everything, whether it’s art or adulting, ha. But I’m wondering if maybe the problem isn’t that I don’t know what to do. It’s that I know what to do but I’m still not doing anything about it. I set up bullshit barriers like I’ll do it tomorrow, I have to clean my entire house first, or maybe I just end up watching all the series on Netflix with a bar of chocolate or three (how did that get there). Or I fill up my entire schedule without giving myself a minute to breathe so I can put off doing the shit that is going to bring me closer to my dreams. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Cause the truth is, the only person holding me back from living my dreams is me. I can tell myself all the affirmations, repeat all the mantras and visualise all I want. But if I don’t actually get my subconscious on board and clear these blocks I’ll be f*cked. I’ll continue going round in the same cycle of feeling like I’m being torn in a million directions, feeling stuck and unsatisfied because I’m not living to my full potential and sharing my light with the world.

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And I guess that’s why I’m still here.

Maybe if I’m here I’ll push myself to let it all hang out. Maybe something I share can help you suffer less than I did. Maybe you’ll feel like you’re not alone. Or you’ll be smart enough to learn from my mistakes and be more forgiving of yourself when you make your own. Maybe you’ll see me questioning everything under the sun and you’ll say damn I do that too—we should stop doing that, ha! I dunno, I just know I want to see more stories like mine, someone who is still battling their demons, and trying their damndest to win. And if I want that, maybe someone else out is waiting to hear my story too. Maybe we can cheer each other on and watch each other turn our pain into something beautiful. That’s all I want. And hopefully one day you’ll look at this page and say look at her—just living her best life, spreading love and being so authentically true to herself. And maybe you’ll think you can too!

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Hey all! Thanks for being here! I’m happy to report that some things have changed. So I hope you’ll also check out https://smartandsmitten.com/2019/07/21/to-all-of-the-people-i-knew-before/

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Life · Mind & Spirit~Reflection, Habits & Self Care · Uncategorized

Understanding and Improving my Approach to Conflict.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my approach to conflict. I usually use humour to deflect or diffuse arguments. And it works, so I rarely get into arguments. I rarely debate. And I try to avoid giving my energy to opposing someone’s opinion. As my mother in law once said, “you’re likely just gonna waste your breath trying to change a mind that’s already made up.”

But as you’ll often here me say, I am a fence sitter. I’m a woman of many shades. So, while I have gone out of my way to diffuse situations for others. I also get overwhelmed by conflict, and have isolated myself at times to avoid it all together. A friend recently said that I’m spiritual enough to pray for y’all, but probably still hood enough to swing on you too. Its a bit of a problem. One I’ve been trying to work on, but one that is kinda confusing. It’s not easy to have a good cop/bad cop reaction playing out in your brain, simultaneously, pretty much all the damn time.

Around this time last year I found these two beasts wrestling with one another over the meaning of a quote that my sister had shared on Facebook. Ironically, I thought it was about what comes out of you, and how you react when things go to hell. An old family friend, felt it had another meaning, and went about saying so in a way that I found abrasive and unnecessarily rude. So I questioned him, I could have just scrolled on and let him be wrong but I didn’t. And ultimately we just ended up trading barbs, and by the end we still disagreed. By the next day though, I realized how ridiculous the entire thing was. I tried to make a joke out of it, but that pissed him off more, so I apologized to him. I told him that I wanted to believe because he had said something I thought was rude and mean, I had the right to knock him down in an effort to stand up for my sister.

And from the start I could have just said that. But when I responded to his comments on that quote, I knew that, that wasn’t what I was doing. I knew deep down, that a part of me also really wanted to put him in his place. I went into it telling myself I was just asking questions, hoping to understand his comment better. But that’s not what I did. I was mad, and when I’m angry I rarely take the time to think about anything other than where I’m gonna hit you below the belt. And if I feel I’ve knocked you down a peg, I might start to think I’ve won. It’s like this old arcade game I used to play at the nearby ski hill when I was growing up. I don’t even like video games, but I was a hopeless skier and snowboarder (and I was poor and couldn’t afford that shit anyway). So while friends enjoyed the slopes, I actually got pretty decent at “Mortal Combat.” And sometimes when I argue I think of it. If you can throw your opponent off balance, you’ll hear a voice commanding you to “Finish Him!”

I’m not particularly proud of this method of operating. And I guess that’s why it keeps bubbling up. I’m realizing that if the objective of my discussion is to win, I usually end up being the loser. Even if I sway them to take on my point of view, I will often end up feeling guilty, regretting how I spoke or treated the other person. I’m also realizing that although I want to evolve into a more loving person, it takes emotional maturity, it takes time, it takes knowledge, and it takes practice.

Practice I’m not going to get if I hide out and isolate myself all of the time. So I keep trying and hoping that if I continue, I might become my own version of the examples that I look up to. And maybe if this light of mine can warm even one heart with my silly doodles and rambling stories, it’s a win. Because I think every time we choose love, life and connection we can elevate and work together for good. It lifts my heart, and I feel hopeful about this life and this world, it feels right and damnit it feels good. So friends tell me, how do you face conflict and share your light? I’d love to hear from you.

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Hey all! Thanks for being here. Somethings are really changing on this self awareness journey of mine. I hope you’ll also check out https://smartandsmitten.com/2019/07/21/to-all-of-the-people-i-knew-before/

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Life · Uncategorized

Oh hey, you’re out of Milk- Notes from a stalker.

It’s been said by those that know me, that I come off as a bit of a creep. I can be a kind of intense. And if you give me a cocktail, you can bet I’m turning into a total close talker. If I’m at all interested in you I’m probably going to stalk you a wee bit. You know the usual stuff, gather intel, do a background check, light surveillance, nothing too crazy. I promise its totally innocent, sort of a detached appreciation. I’m actually quite introverted and definitely have no interest in a possessive way. But, I’ll most likely come on too strong, or over share, and send you running for the hills. And even if I’m not at the wheel of my creep-mobile, if you are remotely in my orbit, at some point I’m going to say or do something weird. I’m generally always doing something to embarrass myself.

For the most part I’ve embraced it, I’ve even worn my stalker badge proudly. I love making my friends these creepy music videos, kind of a birthday-gram. They all share the same theme—obsessed fan. It’s all in good fun and thankfully they still accept me despite my special brand of weird.

But in this life long pursuit to connect with those I’m drawn to, I’ve made things weird on a few occasions. Recently I was reminded of one of the more notorious events in my stalking escapades.

I can remember when I first met him. He was quiet and handsome and had dimples for days. I barely knew him, but I knew I desperately needed to know him better. I can remember one time I saw his car pull into the only gas station we had in our small town. It was blocks away, but I ran there as fast as I could. When I arrived he was just leaving. I was completely out of breathe, but I tried to act aloof, managing to squeak out one word. One breathe-less “hey.” He said hi back, hopped in his car and left, and I collapsed to the ground gasping for air. You probably think I’m exaggerating, but nope, that’s me. This is just one example of the many embarrassing things I’ve done when I find myself attracted to another soul. He should have been afraid but for whatever reason he tolerated my intensity and we became friends.

A couple years later we were hanging out just doing the normal teenager thing, cruising around and hanging out with friends. My girlfriends and I were scrutinizing and exchanging the only selfies we had back then, our annual school photos. I was picking my photo apart, but he thought it was cute and said he wanted one. I was embarrassed because I had to give them to my mom first, but I told him I’d give him one later. A normal human being would have just set aside one of the leftover photos. But instead, I spent the evening constructing a giant poster board, using all of them. Twenty or so of the same photo and pose, in every size. The idea was that he would hang it on his wall, and if anyone saw it they would assume he was obsessed with me. A real stalker of my own, swoon! My girlfriend and I laughed the night away at the thought of it. We added blinking lights, shiny paper and tinfoil. The next day I went to present him with my masterpiece. But suddenly I felt a bit ridiculous and started second guessing myself. I was a bit worried he wouldn’t get the joke, and would likely think I was a total lunatic. But I threw caution to the wind, and decided to go for it. I put it in his truck and when we got a chance to be alone I told him to go have a peek. I was laughing, because no matter what I kinda think I’m hilarious. To my surprise he seemed totally unfazed by this monstrosity, he smiled and told me it was awesome!

Awesome? Perhaps this quiet, smiley boy is a bigger weirdo than he lets on. “Let’s go plug it in” I exclaimed. And the rest is history.

The point is, sometimes you are better off just letting it all hang out. I want to be liked and cared for just as much as the next guy, but getting close to people can be scary. I can be insecure, and I make mistakes attempting to do so. Some people get turned off by me, but I’m slowly learning those aren’t my people. Rejection is hard, but I’m a woman of many shades and I’m the only one who gets to define exactly who that is. Anyone else’s opinion is none of my business. Sometimes I’m intense, maybe a bit overwhelming, sometimes I’m introverted, probably kinda underwhelming. But I’m also a loving human being that desires intimacy with others, not in a sexual way, but a spiritual one. I need people I can be totally unfiltered with, laugh with. People who care about my story and remind me that although I feel like a misfit, I’m not alone in this journey. Apparently this is going to be misinterpreted at times, and may scare the odd person off. But there’s something special about it too. So I vow to be myself and see who stays. I’ve had success and found kindred spirits by doing so in the past. And I think those who are brave enough, might end up with a great friend. Someone who will always be looking out for them——albeit through a long range spying scope. Ha! But seriously I can’t help but be me, flaws and all. So I’ve decided to let my freak flag fly! Cause you never know who might be happy to see it.

Words and Art by Jessie Thoresen.

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Uncategorized

The Guide (Part 2).

The guide

You can live a life with no worries;

And all you need do,

Is follow these simple tips –

I’ll spell them out for you.

You must share the load as a homemaker,

The old gender roles you needn’t abide.

But the man of the house has obligations,

So be sure you can provide.

Being a soft, nurturing role model,

Must be a part of your mindset.

And you must be the fearless protector,

Alert to every threat.

Be a sensitive man who listens,

To earn your badge of pride.

But don’t you be a sissy,

keep your feelings bottled up inside.

Be a fun, impulsive sports fan,

Your deeds and physique should be heroic,

But always weigh your options;

Be wise, be calm, be stoic.

And if you’re confused by this paradox,

Between being a gentleman and a boor.

All you need do to fight it,

Is to see yourself as more.

Just live your life with pride,

If you want to be set free.

And don’t forget who you were,

Before they told you who you should be.

J. Thoresen

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Uncategorized

The guide.

Words and Art by J. Thoresen.

Part 1- Guidance for female humans.

The guide

You can live a life with no worries;

And all you need do,

Is follow these simple tips –

I’ll spell them out for you.

You should appear sweet and wholesome,

Yet insatiable and sexy.

Be the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve,

But not so emotional they say you are crazy.

You should be low maintenance,

But always look your best.

Stay brave and independent,

But always wary of danger, and aware of how you are dressed.

Eat! No one likes a salad girl,

You should be confident in your skin.

But to look good and be healthy,

You simply must stay thin.

Be an outspoken career person,

Only rely on yourself.

But also Suzie Homemaker,

Ready to put your aspirations on the shelf.

And if you’re confused about this paradox,

Between being a Madonna or a whore.

All you need do to fight it,

Is to see yourself as more.

Just live your life with pride,

If you want to be set free.

And don’t forget who you were,

Before they told you who you should be.

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Uncategorized

Honest Rumours. Words and Art by J.Thoresen

If you were honest,

And your intent was true.

Don’t you be disheartened,

By the opinion of a few.

Some may take it personally,

Some may reject or criticize.

But that’s a reflection of them,

Not a reason to apologize.

You needn’t explain your truth,

So don’t bother to try.

For those committed to

misunderstanding,

Often prefer the comfort of a lie.

J.Thoresen

Gallery-Paint · Gallery-Written · Life · Uncategorized

Fear and love for #metoo

My mom was raised by a single mom back in the 50’s, when being a divorced single parent was deeply frowned upon. The woman who raised my mom was beautiful, and resourceful. She made sure my mom always had a roof over her head and food in her belly. But my mom was also raised by a woman with a drinking problem. A woman who could be emotionally abusive, and moved her away from the love of her grandparents and in with whomever she happened to be dating. She was raised by a woman whose boyfriend got drunk one day, and beat her to death.

I had always struggled to understand my Grandma, and moreso everything that had happened to her. I would ask my mom about her sometimes. And my Mom would tell me stories from her childhood, some good, some bad. I asked about the man that had killed her. I couldn’t understand how someone could do that to another human being. I remember at one point, years later, I was thinking about it all and I asked my life guru-Google; “how can people be so shitty?” And Google in its infinite wisdom, told me that every person makes choices in life, and each one is decided by choosing either love or fear.

Fear or love.

I discovered that some people believe all of our choices, emotions and reactions, fall into one of two categories-love or fear. Some even say that fear is simply a call for love. Not good or bad, not right or wrong. As fear isn’t necessary wrong, I’m sure in the past fear helped our cave brothers and sisters survive all of the time. Fear is often our natural reaction, as it’s not always easy to sink below the turbulent thoughts of the mind and into the heart where love resides.

Right now there is a lot of fear, and a lot of people saying we should be afraid. The #metoo movement and everything that was going on with the U.S Supreme Court caused a lot of emotional reactions. It pains me too, picking at old wounds that I thought I had healed. ‘Cause that’s the thing, you can read all of the self help shit you want, but when your past comes knocking anything you haven’t healed is likely going to come spilling out. No matter how many bandaids you used to cover it. Personally I had promised myself that I would no longer just survive I would thrive, but I’m not always sure how to put that into action. And I believe my pain is a sign that I have more healing to do. So I take a little time to reflect, to understand why my friends opinions on the matter are causing me so much distress. I think of all the times I previously ignored my feelings for practical reasons or because I was told that a good girl goes along to get along. I feel angry at all those who ever made me feel powerless, and maybe even angry at myself for the times I chose not to speak up. But I watch all of the arguments, back and forth, and sometimes I think maybe I could explain it in a way to make everyone understand. I wonder though, would anyone listen? People tell their stories but if we don’t understand their perspective we reject it, often trying to dispute their feelings. Or we get angry at them for even sharing, we take it personally, or tell them they simply need to get over it. We are all screaming to be heard and understood, and yet it seems like we are moving farther and farther away from understanding.

Then I remembered something my instructor at a creative arts workshop had said. She told us that the key to creating great art isn’t found in our skill or technique. She said the greatest art makes us feel. She said that art can help us reflect and express ourselves. She believed that we turn to the arts as a way to relate to one another, to understand ourselves and each other when words fail us.

I don’t know if that totally sunk in at the at the time. But her words stuck with me, and lately her words have been coming back to me. An artist tells their story, pouring their feelings into their piece. We may have our own perception or opinion of what we believe the artist is telling us, but we know ultimately the piece is a reflection of the artist- it’s their story, their fears or love. Sure there may be critics, or people that don’t understand the piece, but we quickly realize that their opinion is irrelevant. They perceive the artists work based on their own experiences-their story, their fear or love. The best art makes us feel, it’s not right or wrong. Art is created to help us reflect, not react. To show us an example not an opinion.

And I wondered what would our lives would be like if instead of reacting to everything, we attempted to reflect instead? If instead of jumping to share our opinion, attempting to prove right or wrong, we just let people tell their stories. What would our world be like if we just reflected on one another’s stories, instead of reacting to them? What if we asked ourselves, what example am I setting by sharing this opinion? Why does this persons story make me feel this way? Is my reaction an example of love or fear?

And I thought of my Grandma again. I couldn’t understand what had happened to her or why she would accept abuse in her life. I couldn’t understand her perspective because I would never experience life from her eyes. I would never fully understand what it was like from her side, because it was impossible for me to fully walk in her shoes. But I could understand love and fear. And I could see that although she hoped for love, it was also obvious that shame, depression, and control had been major players in her life. Fear was used as a weapon against her, and fear kept her in her place. And I wondered how different her life may have been, if she had felt able to reach out and tell her story or choose love? Instead the love she deserved was misdirected as she begged and called for it through fear. I think maybe for the first time ever, I truly empathized with her. Her life was her story, anyone’s opinion of her life is irrelevant. Her life is simply an example of love and fear. As is mine, as is yours.

And as I write this it hit me, perhaps my ability to thrive instead of just survive, is bound to my ability to choose love instead of fear. My story is mine. A reflection of me—my fear and love. To hold back would be to succumb to fear, to express myself is to love myself. This doesn’t mean I have to tell every person every sorted detail of any trauma I’ve experienced. But it does mean I have the right to claim my feelings, and speak up if I believe something isn’t right. I won’t fight those who are committed to misunderstanding me because I realize that their opinion is simply a reflection of them-and therefore irrelevant to me. And so I will tell my stories, when and with whom I choose. I will no longer apologize for my honesty, my stories or my art, because it is my truth. Every choice I make adds to the picture that makes up my life. And I just need to decide who the major player will be in this masterpiece, fear or love?

I will examine fear, but I will choose love for #metoo !

What will you choose?

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Hey all! Thanks for being here! I hope you’ll also check out https://smartandsmitten.com/2019/07/21/to-all-of-the-people-i-knew-before/