Painted Poems by Julie Julie

Painted Poems by Julie Julie Artist. Poet. Storyteller. Rebuilding a life one fifteen minutes at a time. Finding beauty in ordinary moments and proving it’s never too late to begin again.

Today is a day of art and wandering wonder.I painted with the kids today, and the funny thing is, I’m still learning too...
21/08/2026

Today is a day of art and wandering wonder.

I painted with the kids today, and the funny thing is, I’m still learning too.

None of us are experts. We’re simply picking up a brush, choosing a color, and seeing what happens.

There’s something freeing about being new at something. No expectations. No pressure to get it right. Just curiosity, creativity, and a willingness to make a little mess.

Maybe that’s the best part of art.

You don’t have to know what you’re doing.

Give it 15 minutes.

You just have to begin.

20/08/2026

Six years after losing Gary, I sometimes wonder if love will ever find its way back to me. I wonder if I will ever want to open that door again, or if the woman who once poured every last drop of herself into another person has simply retired from that job.

The strange thing is, I’m not afraid of being alone anymore. Alone feels very different when you finally learn how to keep yourself company. And when I think about dating, I don’t feel desperate for someone to fill the empty spaces. I mostly wonder whether I have any desire left to give away the pieces of myself I spent so many years giving away so freely.

Maybe that isn’t sadness. Maybe it’s simply growing older, wiser, and a little more protective of the woman I’ve become.

Maybe I’m Enough

I used to give until I had nothing,
A little more love, a little more time,
I poured myself into someone else’s life,
Until there was barely a piece of mine.

I thought that love meant giving it all,
Being the shelter, the steady place,
Carrying worries I never created,
While smiling through every tired day.

But something changes when you grow older,
You start to notice what peace can be.
A quiet house doesn’t feel quite so empty
When the company there is me.

So when I think about dating again,
I don’t feel frightened, I don’t feel sad.
I just wonder if I’d trade this freedom
For all the giving I once thought I had.

Maybe love will knock on my door someday,
Maybe it won’t, and that’s okay too.
I’m no longer waiting for someone to complete me.
I’ve finally learned how to belong to me.

And if being alone is where my life leads,
I think I can walk that road just fine.
Because I spent so many years giving away my everything,
And these days, I rather like keeping some of it mine.

There is something about these little feet that makes my life feel measurable.These are the feet that first learned to c...
20/08/2026

There is something about these little feet that makes my life feel measurable.

These are the feet that first learned to climb the stairs in our beautiful tilt house in Orlando, the one we lovingly called the Treehouse. Then they followed me from place to place while I dreamed up a new life in Spain. Sometimes they followed my lead. Sometimes, I suspect, I followed his.

They have crossed floors, streets, airports and countries with me. They walked onto an airport in Miami, flew across the ocean, and stepped onto Spanish soil in Barcelona as if international travel were simply another Tuesday.

Those little feet moved into our home here and have been walking beside me ever since.

Through the beautiful days, the messy ones, the lonely ones and all the unexpected turns of beginning again, they have simply kept going.

Today, they are resting. No adventures in the heat.

Just little feet tucked up beside me while we watch movies, eat grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup, and wait for the sky to finally open.

After almost fifteen years of walking through life together, I think we’ve earned a quiet afternoon.

Life Measured in Pawsteps

Our life can be measured
in the places we’ve walked together.

The TimerThis is not just a kitchen timer.This little thing once sat on my counter and helped me change my entire life.F...
20/08/2026

The Timer

This is not just a kitchen timer.
This little thing once sat on my counter and helped me change my entire life.

Fifteen minutes at a time.

Clean something.
Pack something.
Throw something away.
Start again.

Years later, I live in Spain, write poems, paint pictures, and occasionally spend an entire afternoon doing absolutely nothing useful.

And somehow, I think the timer would approve.
So today I’m starting something new.
The 15-Minute Museum.

Every now and then, I’m going to share one ordinary thing from my life and tell you the story hiding inside it.

Because maybe the things that change us don’t always look important when they first arrive.

19/08/2026

What They Do With Your Kindness

It’s funny how some people can forget every kindness you ever gave them, yet remember exactly what they think you didn’t give them. You can pour time, love, money, patience, and effort into someone, and somehow they can still turn around and make you the villain.

Some people will use the very ladder you helped them climb to knock you back down.

They won’t mention the hand
that pulled them up.
They won’t remember the doors
you helped them walk through.

They’ll remember what they wanted
and what you didn’t give.

They’ll take your kindness
and turn it into expectation,
your generosity into obligation,
your helping hand into something
they somehow deserved.

And when you finally step away,
they may tell everyone
you were the problem.

Let them.

You don’t have to explain
every good thing you ever did.

Some people will rewrite the story
because gratitude would require them
to admit they needed you.

And sometimes
the best thing you can do
is stop holding the ladder
and let them learn
how high they really climbed
without you.

17/08/2026

Today has been one of those quiet days.

My stomach is a little upset, so I stayed home and crawled back into bed.

No painting in the square today.

And I really missed it.

Painting with the children has become one of my favorite parts of being here. There is something about their little hands covered in paint, their excitement over every color, and the way they just paint without overthinking anything.

But today the brushes stayed where they were.
The house is quiet.
The afternoon is moving slowly.

And the Basset is curled up in bed with me, keeping me company as if he knows this is a day for doing absolutely nothing.

No plans. No painting. No rushing around.

Just me, my bed, my old boy beside me, and the sounds of the village outside my window.

Tomorrow is another day.

And hopefully there will be paint on my hands again.

15/08/2026

Fifteen Minutes

When I changed my life, I packed everything I owned into three suitcases and walked away from a home where I had lived for more than twenty years. I was leaving behind an entire lifetime of memories, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to deal with any of it. Even the smallest task felt completely overwhelming. A good friend and counselor suggested something that sounded almost ridiculous at the time. She told me to buy a kitchen timer and set it for fifteen minutes. That was it. I didn’t have to pack the whole house. I didn’t have to figure out my entire future. I just had to see what I could accomplish in fifteen minutes. So that’s what I did. Fifteen minutes of packing. Fifteen minutes of sorting. Fifteen minutes of making decisions about things I had kept for years. When the timer went off, I stopped. Sometimes I rested. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I reset it and did another fifteen minutes. Little by little, the impossible became manageable. I didn’t change my life in fifteen minutes. But I learned that I could change what happened in the next fifteen. And maybe that’s what I still need to remember sometimes. We put so much pressure on ourselves to fix everything, figure everything out, become healthier, happier, stronger, better. Maybe we don’t have to do all of that today. Maybe we just need fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to start something. Fifteen minutes to put something down. Fifteen minutes to take one small step toward the life we want. Because sometimes a whole new life doesn’t begin with one giant decision. Sometimes it begins with a kitchen timer.

Julie Julie

A little truth about this page…I paint because sometimes I can’t quite say what I’m feeling. I write because sometimes ...
14/08/2026

A little truth about this page…

I paint because sometimes I can’t quite say what I’m feeling. I write because sometimes the words arrive before I understand why I need them.

And somewhere between the paint, the poetry, and this crazy little Spanish village, I’m figuring out what comes next. So this page isn’t really about paintings or poems. Sometimes it’s a Place marker about noticing things.

Starting over.
Finding beauty in ordinary days.
And occasionally making a complete mess with both my life, my writing and watercolor.

If you’ve been following along, thank you.
And if you’re new here, welcome.
I’m Julie.
I’m a train wreck and a flight risk
I paint. I write. I’m rebuilding.

I’m still figuring out what my next page looks like.

10/08/2026

Today has not been a good day.

Sometimes memories create a longer kind of love, and sometimes they create a feeling of disconnect from the world around you. Today, I feel more disconnected than connected.

Everything inside of me wants to run, hide, bury my head in the sand, and wish myself into any other moment.

And honestly, I’m tired of seeing smiles on the faces of people who have completely shattered parts of my life, people who walk around as though nothing happened, taking no accountability for the damage they caused, not only to me but to others.

There are some wounds that don’t disappear simply because the person who caused them has moved on.

So I’m going away for a while. I need some quiet. I need some space. I need to step away from the noise, the memories, and the things that keep reopening wounds I’m trying to heal.

There is nothing anyone needs to fix. Sometimes you just have to allow yourself to have a bad day, a heavy heart, and some time to find your way back to yourself.

I’ll be back when I’m ready.

Today is six years since you’ve been gone. The last few days have had me thinking about how strange it is to remember a ...
10/08/2026

Today is six years since you’ve been gone. The last few days have had me thinking about how strange it is to remember a life that can feel as though it was written in a different book. Another country. Another place. Another time. There are parts of me that still feel as though they live there, alongside the people, the friendships, and the daily purpose I once had. My world is so much quieter now. My circle could almost fit around a card table. Sometimes that quiet feels awkward, and I’ve questioned what it means. Is it damage? Is it healing? Or is it simply change? I don’t have an answer for that yet. I just know that the quiet has given me space to think, and I’m starting to believe that space can be the beginning of something new. I don’t know what this next year will bring, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

A DIFFERENT BOOK

Six years today since you’ve been gone,
And still the years keep moving on.
I look at who I was back then,
And wonder who I might have been.

Sometimes it feels like another book,
Another country, another look.
Another place, another time,
A world that once was wholly mine.

There are parts of me still living there,
Still breathing in that different air.
Some pieces stayed within that place,
Still remembering its familiar space.

I used to have a circle wide,
With people always by my side.
A daily purpose, somewhere to be,
A world that felt like home to me.

Now my world is quiet and small,
And some days I don’t mind at all.
Some days the silence feels so strange,
Like I am waiting for a change.

I’ve asked if this is damage, healing,
Or simply some new kind of feeling.
I don’t think I’ve been left behind,
I think I’m learning a different kind.

A quieter room can hold some light,
And make tomorrow feel more bright.
There’s space to breathe, there’s room to grow,
And things ahead I do not know.

I don’t know what the next year holds,
But I can feel a story unfolds.
The other book will always stay,
A part of who I am today.

But this one still has pages to turn,
And there are things I want to learn.
Six years today, and here I stand,
Curious about what I have planned.

Address

No
London
00000

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Painted Poems by Julie Julie posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Establishment

Send a message to Painted Poems by Julie Julie:

Shortcuts

Share

Category