Jessica Tremp
Profile
I drink Gin (whiskey on cold days) and guzzle wine.
You can win me over with a bowl of Spaghetti or a good cup of tea and lively banter of plans and idea plotting.
Most likely I will smother your dog (and any others we pass) and laugh too loudly and at things you won’t really find as funny as I do.
I love the word whimsical and the smell and taste of vanilla as much as the cold side of the pillow.
My traveling feet get itchy but I will miss home while I’m scratching them.
I’m partly swiss, mainly Melbournian, occasional snob and a cynical romantic.
I will often and overtly swoon over good music, beautiful art, something that positively shocks or stirs the creative side of the brain and life’s simple pleasures.
My cell phone’s main use is to help me see in the dark.
If you play monopoly or card games with me with a sundowner in hand watching the outdoorsy life slow down or jump over big waves on deserted beaches with me, I will most likely become very clingy, so please only partake in these if you mean it…
Email: jess.tremp@gmail.com
Groups
Jessica Tremp is a member of All Things Poetic, Prose, Philosophical., Blue Room, Compassion, Gaia - The Living Planet, Graphic Scratch, Melbourne, Poetry Barn, Short stories - Spherical Scriptings, The Industrial Nude , Theatrical and Staged Photography and Travel and Adventure.
Journal Entries
An anniversary of sorts (warning: a bit fuzzy and heaps of photos)
Posted about 1 month ago, 42 comments so far.
Have you ever…
Posted 2 months ago, 16 comments so far.
Spinning
Posted 4 months ago, 15 comments so far.
Love, Thanks and Photos
Posted 4 months ago, 35 comments so far.
Marketing Shmarketing
Posted 5 months ago, 6 comments so far.
Exhibition - Much Excitement
Posted 5 months ago, 22 comments so far.
I'm in MX !!!!
Posted 11 months ago, 62 comments so far.
Art
Writings
To Race with your Beast against a Storm
“Let’s race it to the end!”
All my tired pretty horses
Chasing ghosts with thickly buttered toast and black cherry jam.
A Night of Black and a Day of Deserts
your face makes me wish I could punch it
Mine's not a High House
I will most likely paint in mine
to springclean late in the year
I have a love, it’s ten storey’s high
Things we left to the Fire
I admit having turned to boys with noisy fingers












