of nothing + everything.

I felt compelled to write a blog post. About what exactly... is the question I'm asking myself, right now, as I type this with pyjama bottoms, a messy ponytail and coursework waiting to be written.

Words are very strange and very fascinating. Somehow, what I'm thinking in my messy-messy brain can translate on to paper (or in this case, a computer screen). And then sometimes, somehow, words aren't enough and everything is just very blank and heavy and nothing.

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago when everything felt very jumbled and I was angry, sad, stupefied and very very tired:

I’m a myriad of thoughts, emotions, expressions, laughter, tears and stillness. How can you even begin to unpick what I’m feeling?

And I guess that 'you' could be nothing and everything all at once. Am I making sense? Maybe. It doesn't really matter... sometimes words are meant to be just that- words. 

(I've been studying Hamlet and it appears his soliloquy's are affecting more than I realised- oops). 

Everything is always romanticised. All the emotions. It's all a bit messy- like a jigsaw puzzle being forced together and we're told 'that's just life'. 

And sometimes I want to be completely in-eloquent and sum up everything (and nothing) with 'bleh.' 

So, yes, I feel as though I am at a war with words and feelings and all the little unspoken emotions threaded in between... 

Until next time,

-J

P.S. 201 followers on bloglovin'. Hell yeah! 

self + faces.

I.

There's a lot of self in this world, both online and not. Self esteem. Self belief. Self confidence. Yet as our self____  makes us smile,  it tears others down. Whilst their self____ radiates, we doubt ours. It's a vicious cycle and I hate it. I.

Have you ever looked a girl and thought, wow she's beautiful without automatically thinking, wow I'm not. Or wow, she's prettier then me. Hotter than me. Better than me... until you've reduced yourself to a lesser being. I know I have. We are such a critical race and criticise we shall. Everything. Our eyebrow shape, the size of our eyes, lips, skin, hair, teeth. Everything that ticks the box of 'human'. Scrolling through tumblr, I will see picture upon picture of beautiful girls. 'Beautiful'.

And yet they all look different. Beauty is so broad; why the hell can't you fit in to it too? And when I look at these girls I don't feel self belief or self confidence or self esteem. I feel self doubt. The same way every single person behind the camera would feel self doubt at seeing another 'beautiful' face. It's so sad that we can't appreciate beauty without criticising our own. That we can't say you're beautiful without thinking of our self.

I want to challenge us to compliment; to love other beauty and self love our own. Let's bring everyone up (including ourselves). Faces appreciating faces. That- that's beautiful.

As always, replies are welcome.
-J

just chat.

I wanted to change some things on this website. Like everyone, I've grown up- grown out of the same blogging identity I've carried around since I was thirteen. I'm inspired, uninspired, inspired, uninspired yet I am certain that I want this blog to grow with me.

I'm almost eighteen.

Things are changing in my life, constantly changing. I never have a stable mindset and am always, constantly, frantically looking to the next movement -  the next change. This blog has slowly, somehow slipped in to commercialism. If it's done right, I'm not against it. But so often it isn't and I'm scared that Painting The Ocean maybe moving in to isn't and that's a change I'm not okay with.

Working with brands is exciting. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. BUT (because there's always a but isn't there?) I refuse to let that jeopardise the realism I've worked so hard to achieve on this blog. I refuse to become just another lifestyle blogger portraying something that isn't really a lifestyle at all.

Balance.

It's all about finding a balance. Balancing school work and a social life, balancing blogging and instagram, balancing writing and reading, balancing sleeping and staying awake. There are always going to be inequities- and that's okay- but for now, at least, I want to write. About everything. About nothing. About the in between that isn't  poeticised.  I love communication, strangers, expression and creativity...

So, yes, there is going to be a change. In myself, more than anything. Freedom. And it already feels so damn good.

-J

i just wanna be a rock star.

This a little something I wrote the other day on a long and pondering train journey inspired by the song "Rockstar" by A Great Big World. As always, interpret as you wish.

There's a lot of talk about 'life is what you make of it'. That you should quit your stifling city job and go and live, immerse yourself in this elusive freedom, sell all your clothes and wear bare-feet as you skim the pavement. Because that's living, isn't it? That's adventure. 

What you aren't told is that working to feed a family, eating an entirely boring meal of oven chips and chicken nuggets is living too. I struggle a lot with adventure and the unknown and how all I want is to run across a field with my skirt hitched way above my knees. Unfortunately, this isn't practical. It's not realistic, it's a fantasy thrown at us by social media. That's living, they say. 

But what I can't? What if I'm working in a job that I don't love, just tolerate. What I like my overpriced handbag and my overcrowded streets and crooked smiles from watery friendships? What if I'm stuck with deadlines, car horns and aeroplanes in the sky?

-J

feelings #2

It has been longer than a year since I last posted something titled 'feelings'. Another is long overdue. My last post was written at the beginning of my GCSE year. Reading that back I feel an overwhelming sense of achievement, accomplishment.

And yet now, with another set of exams looming over me,I feel demotivated. Relaxed even. Ideas about the future are toying with me, grappling with me, consuming my everyday. And they're not frightening, they're exciting. I'm excited. University, social media, writing, new friends, holidays, festivals, travel... so many experiences I've got to look forward to that it is becoming increasingly harder to  remain in the present. To ground myself. 

I have never been stationary. I  always look toward the next thing, searching for the next adventure. I am never complacent. And that can also hinder my progress. There's a book on my shelf- I call it my 'ideas book'- in which I plan and dream up developments on social media. Some days I wake up determined to 'make it' as a YouTuber. My tripod is ready, the camera recording and then I just f r e e z e. Slow down. Blink. Other days I wake up with a hunger for money- a greed for adventuring and the cost that it demands. 

I want so much. I keep wanting, I keep dreaming of more and more. 

It's obsessive. Success. And I'm so tired.

Living is running in to the ocean with your best friend, they say. Living is jumping out of a helicopter in a suit, YouTube will tell you. Living is performing in front of thousands of fans every evening, the media will scream. How can we not want more? 

Steps. Thoughts. Breathing. There are steps I need to take to reach university, to afford festivals and aeroplane tickets. These steps may seem tiresome, tedious even, but they are fundamental. Exceptionally so. There are thoughts I remind myself when I feel I'm losing reality- when I'm off in a dream scape and suddenly I'm the next big 'thing' with money and a fan base and a big house and movie premier's. There are breaths in between. Little things like laughing with my best friends; taking a walk; smiling at the old lady next to me on the bus; pushing myself at school/ work; dancing through the night. 

Because that's life isn't it? Living.

Thank you again for reading. 

-J

there's a world out there.

There's a world out there, she said. There were crinkles in her eyes as she did: like indentations on a map scorned over years of travel; thumb prints that marred the surface in gentle caresses. She tapped on  the window like it wasn't there. Like if she pushed hard enough she would fall. No, not fall. Infinity would catch her. Her eyes were the perfect echo of adventure. And when I searched for long enough, I could forget the shadows. They'd just melt away. 

I keep a globe on the window sill. I change it every year because adventure isn't stationary. It doesn't just still, it evolves, it dances. The same way I know that she's still dancing. This world was too silent for her. She wasn't too loud. 

There's a world out there, I whisper and my words float in the wind. 

- Mum // by paintingtheocean 2016

Hello, the sun is shining, the clouds are out and I'm actually writing a blog post. I wanted to take this little website back to its roots - writing. I formed Painting The Ocean as a creative outlet; a place where I could write and project my thoughts in a simplistic yet aesthetic way. This blog has always been the source of anything I've ever done on the internet and, truthfully, I miss it. It feels neglected... like its lost some of the magic it brought me and (hopefully) you too!

As you know, creative writing is my favourite hobby. I try to indulge in it as frequently as possible although recently it seems other things (Youtube, tumblr, Netflix etc) have taken its place. And that's not cool. So, hello, and enjoy this little something which dripped off my fingers quite literally two minutes ago. Like always, this is inspired by a picture I found on tumblr.

Let me know what other blog posts you'd like to see :)
-J

youtube // Jessie Maisie

instagram // oceanpainter_

tumblr// oceanpainter.tumblr.com