What is hard?

Or does it become hard because others tell us it is hard?

Do we get tired because we are tired, or because people look at our lives and decide for us that we must be exhausted?

I wonder how much of what we feel is truly ours and how much is projected onto us by others.

At the same time, there are things I know I feel.

I miss my daughter enormously. I miss my parents. I miss Paris. I miss being in Europe, walking in Luxembourg with my friends. I have wanted to go back to Bretagne for three years. I want to return to Italy and Scotland. Yet my steps always seem to go where my immediate family is, which these days means France and Holland and the USA.

And oh, how wonderful it was to be in Israel last year. Yes, despite the war. Very strange to say, I know. It is a feeling that is difficult to explain. Being there with my family of five. Together. Surrounded by family there too. There was something very powerful about that.

I feel trapped by distance. The people I love are scattered around the world and I cannot simply get in a car and see them. I feel trapped in my own body too. It feels like it keeps inflating while I am trying to do the opposite. I know, I know… I stopped exercising again last November. But still, it is frustrating to spend months trying to get healthier and feel like I am moving backward rather than forward.

I still cannot figure out how to organize this summer. My mind keeps going in circles. How will I do this? What about Ruby? What about that trip? What about all the pieces that somehow need to fit together?

At the same time, I am incredibly grateful.

For a full month, people have been voting every day and somehow I am still first in my group in the People’s Artist competition. The next four weeks are the biggest ones. Thank you. Truly. Every vote, every message, every share matters more than you know. https://peoplesartist.org/2026/jessica-de-vreeze

I need to finish what I started.

I need to start what is calling me.

There is a painting in my head. There are projects on my desk. There are ideas everywhere.

Yet somehow I seem unable to do either.

Half blocked.

Fully grateful.

And therefore super frustrated with myself.

Because there is so much good around me. So much support. So many reasons to be thankful. So many opportunities. And still, I seem to be standing in the doorway instead of walking through it.

Yesterday was also our 22nd wedding anniversary.

Twenty-two years.

What a gift.

I am grateful my husband is back from Europe after helping our daughter while working at the same time. I am grateful our son is finally on holiday. I am grateful that both of our children had successful years and are moving forward toward new adventures. And our eldest has found the internship she wanted.

Maybe that is the lesson once again.

To let go.

To stop trying to solve every piece of the puzzle at once.

To stop forcing what refuses to move.

To trust that the right things will unlock when they are ready.

Life is good.

A little messy.

A little uncertain.

A little far away from some of the people I love.

But good.

And for that, I am grateful.

I also spend an embarrassing amount of time wondering if I am a spoiled brat.

How can I miss things when I have so much?

How can I long for other places when I have a good life here?

How can I feel frustrated when so many beautiful things are happening?

But perhaps gratitude and longing are not enemies.

Perhaps they simply travel together.

This week, the passing of Marjane Satrapi’s mother echoed in a strange way with my thoughts about the state of the world.

This week also marks 100 years since the birth of Marilyn Monroe. I keep thinking about the extraordinary ability some people have to rise above pain while carrying it with them. The legend should be celebrated, but the woman behind it deserves to be remembered too.

I also read two books.

The Pot Thief Who Studied Escoffier and Apples in the Attic by Mildred Jordan, first published in 1942.

Both stayed with me for very different reasons.

One even led to an email exchange with the author, J. Michael Orenduff, Something may be brewing there. I will tell you more when I know more.

The other is the story of a couple from the point of view of a farmer’s wife in Pennsylvania, reflections on womanhood, how much is carried by women in and out of their heads, the social boundaries, motherhood, resilience, and the often invisible life carried by generations of women. It spoke to me deeply and brought me back, once again, to Unchained Mothering.

And finally, I am incredibly excited for my friend Elias, who has just released a new single and is preparing the release of his new album.

There is something magical about watching someone else’s art take flight.

Even more magical when some of my photographs have found a place telling visually that story.

I love seeing my photography live on through another artist’s work, becoming part of a different creative journey.

Wishing you a good Sunday and good start of the week. If you feel stuck try to let go, I ll try my best on my side.

With love and light,

Jessica