I’m not sure what possessed me to start writing in my own voice, from my own perspective.
It’s like I woke up one day to find that there was someone else’s voice in my head.
At first I was confused for the voice didn’t sound like Jellybean or Blueberry—the two characters I harness to deliver my fantastical world.
This voice fell somewhere in the middle—somewhere between the hopeful optimism of Jellybean and the clear-eyed reality of Blueberry.
This strange voice was mine.
When I was growing up, my parents were very neglectful.
I knew the blades of grass in the backyard at my grandmother’s house and the cracks in her driveway better than I knew anyone in my family.
I wasn’t allowed to express my feelings, thoughts or show emotion in any fashion.
Thus, when I arrived in adulthood, I had no voice to express my creativity so I created a character that could express things in my stead. This proxy form of creating has suited me well for many years.
Yet, since I am so very different, not only in the way I was raised, but being on the spectrum (something I didn’t discover until my forties), I felt that my actual experiences might be of some help to those of you out there struggling to find your own voice and means of expression.
This section of Jelly’s Notebook is dedicated to being defiantly creative and to my journey to find a place for the soul that my parents never wanted to exist.
I hope you find something of value in what I post.
I also hope it will give you, who are fans of my work, a little insight on where my creativity comes from and the very deep and profound concepts I ponder every day.
—Tessla, Queen of Smiles, Keeper of the Portal
