Our love sparked in 1988-romance poured gas on the fire, power hit the throttle. Three decades strong, engine still roaring.
We call it déjà vu maintenance-like the universe just hit refresh and there you are, same eyes, same joke, thirty-seven years later. The first time we kissed in ‘88, and I thought, Oh, you’re back. And Jim said, Yeah. I missed you the first 20 lifetimes. We weren’t poetic-we just knew. So every day since? We keep the timeline open. No new drama, just familiar sparks. Maintenance isn’t boring-it’s remembering. Love as déjà vu: you don’t fall in love. You re-meet it. And if you do the work, every hello feels like again.
Jim’s the builder-architect, entrepreneur, chaos-whisperer who turns any wild topic-politics, poetry, lofts, live TV-into solid gold structure. I’m the designer-art director, animator, painter who floods every blueprint with color, cut, motion, life. Together we’ve rigged entire hospital wings, sparked pilot art-therapy programs that guided people through mental health hell-curing depression, pulling them off edges-because for us art isn’t garnish, it’s voltage. We sling high-vibe psychology, self-first spirituality, creative rehab straight to the soul. No fluff; just tools you actually feel.
Those soul-crushing corporate gigs-dead-end, dollar-choked, every one-was tuition we gladly paid. Not for the paycheck, for the lesson: what not to do, how thin real growth gets when fear runs the show. We stacked blueprints, shot pilots, painted walls, coded dreams-just so we could see the matrix’s seams.
Now SHIMJELLY TV, our books, every raw riff is us cashing that tuition straight back at the system: open-source, transparent, renaissance-style education that layers politics over poetry, heals with pigment and plot, lets you write your own margin notes. Failures? Stepping stones. We learned to vibrate higher than the spreadsheet, and we’re handing you the ladder-no NDA attached.