Jessica Williams, jazz pianist, composer

The Latest Posts

Latest Post to This Site

Nov 23, 2017

I've been having fun on my twitter page!



Nov 17, 2017

jessica - alicia 2018

The picture is of me a few months ago, late 2017. You can see it in my eyes: it ain't over yet.

My life has been pretty cool so far. I love being me, I love my husband, and I love my life.

Anything that happened, I set up with my own intentions. I built my own life. I'm responsible for what happened in it, and what I make happen in the future.

I learned never to live according to other's opinions. Who are others to say who I am?

We have to let go of the old if we want the new to be allowed in. It's finding more in less.

Over time, we make attachments. Habits. Even bad ones can last a lifetime!

We drown in our own attachments!

It's hard to let attachments go, but if you don't, you'll never be fully alive.

You'll get stuck living your boring past over and over and over. There's no fun in memories. They're not real. They happened and then they stopped happening.

It's the past. Get over it.

Write a book about my life? Are you kidding? I have a new life to live.

All of the boring people who think their life is SO important . . . they write books. Let them. I'm not going to read any of them.

Below is a picture of me just a few years ago.

Rockett Raccoon

Be warned. I've changed.

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one race

From Google+ . . .






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Older Posts

Nov 10 2017

jessica 2010

Donations for a piano for me are welcomed here, or you can buy my music here.

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Older Posts

July 20, 2017

jessica - alicia 2018

When I died in back surgery, something changed in me.

Technique and speed at the piano were not only less attractive, they were not possible.

I am not Wonder Woman. Gal Gadot is. We hope. She was great!

And I am NOT a Raccoon, either. Got it, bad guys?

I read Deepak Chopra, and he tells me that I can live another 50 years. I am willing to accept this, with one slight change: I won't ever die.

Chopra and I, we rock.

I had to find courage way down deep and remember that there are worse things than dying, such as living on one's knees or in a constant fear of exposure, ridicule, and unfathomable violence.

I am not who or what I was. I don't do the "unfathomable violence" thingy anymore. Not me, not now.

Is she this, is she that? SHE is ME, and that's that!

There's only one me in the entire Universe. Or at least in this Galaxy.

I'm incomparably, unreservedly, unapologetically ME with a capital 'Moi'.


Who, Moi?



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