Jessica Williams, jazz pianist, composer

"Since I have been virtually jobless for 7 decades now, I suspect my popularity waned shortly before my birth." — Jessica Williams



blah blah

I'm not feeling very well at all, lately.

Early in January 2019 I developed a UTI (urinary tract infection) and called my doctor, who prescribed Ciprofloxacin (Cipro), a dangerous antibiotic used only for serious infections. The World Health Organization uses it for Anthrax.

It fixed my UTI, and I could only take it for 4 days before my husband said to me, "Stop NOW!"

Not only did I feel terrible after taking Cipro — when I googled it, I found that I had a thing called Flouroquinolone Toxicity, or quinolone toxicity, caused by drugs that use Flouride, a metal now considered a health-hazard.

I had read that 26,000 people had already died from quinolone toxicity, and recently encountered a new estimate of 79,000 people world-wide, dead from Johnson & Johnson's biggest seller beside Bayer Aspirin..

There have been almost 4000 lawsuits, settled out of court. Big Bayer has put a skull and crossbones on it's tiny black-box warning, hidden in the physician's accompanying literature.

Anyway, I'm sick with a disease that melts my mitochondrial DNA. It snaps tendons and ligaments while I sleep. The pain is beyond imagining. How many people don't know about this danger?

Almost no one. Now you know, so please, avoid taking Cipro fro infections.

My doctor actually shed a tear for me, and I don't like that. It's too much like an "oops" during major surgery! Doctors aren't perfect, and he's been my doctor for 32 years now. I used to fly up from San Francisco to see him for my basic health needs.

He's stopped running my "numbers" on my estrogen panel because he trusts how I feel more than he trusts the numbers. He's saved my life on many occasions, from giving me thryroxine when I experienced myxedema coma from my hypothyroidism, to helping me deal with considerable pain from my recent back fusion, to the point of actually prescribing medical marijuana and CBD for my pain.

He's not to blame for this mistake. Big Pharma is.

This disease has a reputation of killing it's host within two years. This particulat edict, I will ignore.

Duncan is my savior. For 31 years now, he's been my husband, my friend, my 'driver'. I never drove, and in our first years together, I'd joke that he was my bodyguard and driver. He is that, and so much more.

Put picture of duncan here xxx


My husband for 30+ years now, Duncan

Wish to hear "hip"? Listen to Curtis Mayfield's last album, New World Order. Free (so far) on YouTube. He made this album lying on his back, paralyzed after a lighting fixture fell on him at a concert. It's his good-bye to this world. He says he's going on to the next level. I am sure he is!


What you think, you become.

What you feel, you attract.

What you imagine, you create.




Rocket, Groot II, and Gamora

Commander Rocket, from the movie "The Guardians of the Galaxy" is so hot he sizzles. He also bites, shoots at you with lazguns, and general ruins your day if you're a bad guy. Between Groot and Rocket, not too many people are left standing after their frequent outbursts. All necessary for the plot line.

nothing like me

I'm a fan of the Marvel Universe. The movies are so well-done, and so much fun to watch. Rocket is a genetic experiment by people who were a lot like Mike Pence. They did stuff to him that they want to do to us.

He's kind of mean, but has a sweet side, and he sure loves his friend, Groot.

Rocket also has a new friend in Thor. In Asgard, raccoons are called rabbits, and they are honored and respected for their intelligence and leadership qualities. Thor is a good friend to have!


Chris Hemsworth at work

Thor is the only other super-hero who speaks Groot (a very difficult language), besides Rocket. He learned it at University! Since every exchange consists of the three words "I AM GROOT," the rhythm and shading of tone needs to be perfect for meaningful conversation.

SocMed Blows Horns

I detest social media. It depresses me. The word SOCMED reminds me of INGSOC from Orwell's 1984 and the analogies don't stop there. But it occasionally sends and order or a donation my way, so:

Sorry, no Facebook page. I've learned my lesson.

My Pinterest page, featuring "I Believe in Dog", "The Cat's Meow", "People who are Nice to Look at", and "Wisdom for Dummies".

My Tumblr page, another look at my "profile".

My Wikipedia page, featuring a short bio for the factoid-deprived.

My Twitter page, my least favorite site because it's about the news cycle, and my PTSD and I, we don't do news. We're allergic. But my screen-name is cool: @chirpsville

My youTube page, maybe 30 videos of me being me on stage. I'm a young-looking 72, but back then I was always in pain. I was born with a bad back, and I will die with a few pounds of metal rods and pedicle screws in my spine, holding me erect. My pain is tractable now with CBD, RSO, and all of the wonderful cannabis products that make my mind work in a semi-normal way.

I talk, walk, and respond to most stimulus, as long as it feels good.

My LinkedIn page is always moving about because they keep changing my password. I don't visit too often.


My favorite places to engage in social intercourse used to be East Coast night clubs that stayed open until 6am.

When I quit all of my bad habits 20 years ago, stopped hanging out with jazz musicians, and "came out" as different, I woke up with no gigs and no friends.

The bar was where business was done, and there were few women musicians. When I quit drinking and smoking, bars held no appeal.

Jazz has remained a predominantly male-only profession. They say that women can't swing. I disagree, but there's only one of me to say it.

So I played alone.

Later in my solo career it was concert halls and community centers, but that was only marginally better. The administrators and bureaucrats were difficult for me. Some 'hit' on me, and that is just not okay. I was trying live up to my own idea of what a woman should be. I would not stoop that low.

I've read enough comments from around the internet to know that most people respect me, and the ones that don't are none of my business.

The audience knew nothing of my difference. They loved me, and I loved them. Now that they know I've always been transgendered, I have no excuses to make and no explanations to divulge.

If it were not for the men who controlled this music, so many women and minorities would have embraced jazz. As it was, there were only a few women allowed, and I was one of them.

Lucky me! I wouldn't want to be anyone else than me!

Below, "MOI"



new flag

Flag design by Daniel Quasar

I'm used to transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, racism, sexism, ageism, and most other manufactured miseries created by people who would much rather see all of us dead than see me playing music and making it big.

I ignored them for a full 50 years of jazz combat, but this is not to say they ignored me. I'd go off to a really nice gig. I was asking 3000 dollars per solo concert and I was getting it, because people liked my music. They liked me. Nobody understood why the promoters would never ask me back.

In Georgia, the guy that called me for the job hits on me in the elevator and wants me to have sex with him, but that isn't going to happen and he knows it. I play the gig, fight to get my money, and never again am I welcome at Spivey Hall.

I filled the room to capacity, something no one else could do. But he's tripped out about his own masculinity, and what it means to be attracted to a trans-woman.

And this is silly, because I'm not standard issue trans, and if I was, it's still silly.

I'm inter-sexed, (A.I.S. Type 2) born with ovaries, a cervix, a womb, but I also had a micro-penis, so I was mis-gendered at birth by an average doctor at a normal hospital, in 1948, before genetics existed, and Dad so wanted a boy, but it never worked out. By two I knew . . . by 28, I was a completed woman.

It's easier to say "trans". And no, I do not mind at all. I am proud to be me.

I had my GCS (Gender Correction Surgery) in Philly, at Pennsylvania Hospital, on March 2, 1976, at 28 years old. I met my first husband in Philly within a month, and was asked by Philly Joe Jones to join his band shortly afterwards. It was a Miracle Month.

When I 'came out' 5 years ago, why did I use the "trans" label?

I don't need an excuse. I reached a level where my own values superseded the popular consensus, and I no longer thought about gender every minute.


I had to help, and I wanted our people to know that they did NOT need an excuse to be who they are.


The killing has to stop.

We had an average of 300 of us dying every year because men were killing us and walking free. When Trump was "elected", the number doubled, and then tripled.

You don't sit around and watch people die. In my world, we're all one race, all one species, and our lives matter, our lives are sacred. All lives, all colors, all differences, and all in it together.

Since the advent of the Trump Supremacy, we have had nothing but grief from the Nazis and often, the Christians. I'm don't often speak about what's BAD, because it makes me SAD.

Meanwhile, most of my money was eaten by dark, furtive creatures, never brought to justice.


My advice to anyone going forward in their change? Love yourself. You have to love yourself, and you have to BE yourself. Don't be fooled — waiting won't make your dysphoria dissipate. Sisters and Brothers, follow the Plan. We are stronger than we know.

"If you get hit, deal with it later. If you get killed, walk it off." — Captain America


Voice UP, young trans girls and women

It can treat PTSD and lift a person out of depression. It can prevent violence against you. It's not easy or free, but it solidifies one's identity. It's very very important:

Changing Her Tune: How a Trans-woman Claims A New Identity Through Voice

by Katharine Stoel Gammon, B.A. Anthropology Princeton University, 2003

The human voice is an important indicator of a person’s gender. For male-to-female transgender individuals (or transsexuals) the voice is one of the most difficult parts of the gender transition. Males have larger and heavier vocal apparatuses (larynx and vocal folds), which generally produce a lower sound. Transgender women can have voice surgery, but it can sometimes cause a Minnie Mouse-like falsetto or the complete loss of the voice. As a result, many transgendered women turn to specially trained voice therapists to learn how to speak more convincingly like women. The voice’s pitch, although important, is not the only factor in creating a more female sound. Intonation, resonance, volume, speech patterns and formant frequencies also play significant roles in making a realistic feminine sound. There continue to be many unanswered questions about how listeners perceive the voices of transgender women and how best to blend the voices of transwomen into a comfortable range. Transgender women have many hurdles to face as they transition from male to female, and possessing an authentic voice is a way to smooth out the bumpy path they face. Read more


It's better when you smile!

There are only two

really good voice therapists I know of:

Andrea James


Melanie Anne Phillips

It's hard work, and it pays off in ways you can not imagine.

You have found the Grail. A diagram, a spring-board, a discovery worth knowing: here.


jessica has legs

How old am I? I was born in 1948. You figure it out!




What does it all mean? Nothing much. We can all die at peace.

Ouch! I bet that hurts!

Jessica sensed that it was no average day at the spa.


above: Well, THAT certainly messed up my life!

I'm doing well. I am actually better than when I was in my thirties, because I was always in pain. When it hurts, I treat it and my PTSD with cannabis hybrids or CBD/RSO Oil. It cures just about everything, or at least makes life way better. Awesome, even!



more blog writings here