I have coloured the silver back to black, but miss the pretty silver and shall let it grow out again.  If it is okay for Emmylou Harris, it is okay for me too!

......People seem amazed at my not aging since they last saw me.  I believe that is due to them expecting me to age in the same way as others seem to, which I am not doing.  Hmmmm!  Even I am beginning to wonder now.  But, I have not sold my soul to the devil.  Not that I can remember anyway. I cannot recall everything from that long ago as the memory is not as exceptional as it once was, but I remember what I need to and keep the rest on a mental shelf.  Actually, I now have short term memory loss and so still live in the past more than the present.  I also remain in a time warp and do not intend stepping out of it anytime soon. 

Getting older has been better than being young, as the chances I take and injuries sustained during those times, have dwindled substantially.  There are so many projects to think about, work on and always a new creative venture to start.  I am also happier than I have ever been in the past and have optimism for an even better future.  Hopefully, the world as we know it will have improved and the earth still be here so I can enjoy the next 30 years. But, I am not holding my breath on that. 

I enjoyed being a celebrity in the UK, mostly in London.   Have lived the extravagant life and also, known the ravages of hunger, despair and homelessness, starting from the time I ran away from my parents home, at the age of seventeen years. I had to beg for food on the streets and try to find where a party was going on, so that I would have a place to stay for the night!  I learned too much about the life of the homeless person and transient. 

After having my first daughter, at twenty years of age, leaving my partner/husband, I became homeless again, many times, mostly due to my terrible decisions and even worse choice of boyfriends. Then I had the bad luck to have a second daughter with an alcoholic husband, who I had to escape from and I became homeless again, this time losing both of my four year old daughter and the newly born.  I found them years later, but it was too late and turned out heart breaking for me. 

None of us were able to stay friends and as far as I know, they do not care about me at all.   So I no longer care either and shall now save myself a lot of useless grief for nothing.  Although I do need to say, my eldest, Donna, is still very dear to my heart and she will know that regardless.  But, I know we shall never speak to, or see each other ever again.  It is a shame to be dead to each other like this, but it has to be I guess. I also was prevented in having any contact with my grandson Adam who was nine years at the time we last met.  He is seventeen  now.  I often wonder what kind of a man he is growing into, but. no point staying on that subject.

Not long after this loss of my daughters, (the first time that is) my common-law-husband, Parkie was murdered.  He had been helping me to come to terms with the loss of my daughters. To make it worse, he died in an argument regarding me. He was stabbed with a knife straight through the heart. These few events have just been part of a sad and tragic past.  Ask about my autobiography if you want to read the whole damn tragedy and injustices which still make me so mad!

I really believe that a stressful life and not liking alcohol, has kept me young, (apart from the fact that I have never grown up!).  I have also added the covers of my books, somewhere down this Bio page.  (About to be re-done, just as I have also re-written my novel ready for publication as a paperback from the eBook.)  I have now published an eBook of my novel, 'Into the Lions Den.' Reading this will have a huge effect on your life as you will never forget it.  Nothing is as it seems! The book will soon be available in this site, but can be ordered in my official website; www.donni-jay.com

(My autobiography hopefully will be ready in the new year, 2009. I intend putting a CD of some of my original songs, in the back of each book that is sold, accompanied by a poster.)

~~~~Now back to the Biography~~~~

My tiny dog, Ching, a Pomeranian, weighing just 2lbs came over on the plane with me when I left England to come and live in America.  Ching was mostly hair and about six inches high!  I owned her since she was 10 weeks old, and sadly, (that word does not describe how traumatic it was for me) she had to be put to sleep at 14 years old.

  Ching had been my constant and the longest constant companion I had ever had.  I was bereft and totally beside myself with grief! 

{1/3/2005} Ching's kidneys were failing, but the vet told me I did very well with her living that long, especially as she was one of the smallest Poms ever!  I have posted a poem and story as a tribute to her in here, please read it. I am sure you will see why I just adored her!  She was so incredibly intelligent and obedient too!

Luckily, as you can see by my profile picture, I now have two wonderful Poms and both have a little of Ching in them.  I would like to tell you much more about them soon.  ~~~~~  

This Biography was started in October 2003, but I have updated in various parts, where possible, although there is far too much to add on this homepage. My actual autobiography has turned into Part One and Part Two.  I have packed too much life in one, but cannot omit much from the book or the rest will not tie up.

I know there is a lot to read here, but it is only a tiny smattering of the real thing, so please, get yourself a cup of tea,  relax and enjoy reading through all this!   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When you have finished reading here, you can get more of my life history by reading the chapters for my book, 'The Conflicts and Struggles in the life of Donni-Jay'     Just write and ask me when it will be completed,  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  but meanwhile, please read on!

Now, I shall try to introduce myself to you all ~~~~ My late mother, British and part Polynesian, (her mother being a real Princess) became a nurse and dressmaker/designer.  She taught me to read and write. By the time I was four years old, I was able to read out aloud, from newspapers, write letters, keep diaries and was always writing stories, making little books and selling them to my school friends! (I thought this made me a REAL writer!) I remember my stories were mostly about my thoughts and insights into adult behaviour.  About how little they actually understood the things that I was saying to them, which I knew, they only 'pretended' to understand.

I also wrote about incidents that happened around me, or to me.  My Granny, who the whole family lived with, at the time of my birth, until I was 10 years old, spent the most time with me.  She was able to really inter-react with me, and we sat together for hours, whilst I listened enthralled, to her stories of her past Colonial life.  This included all the entertaining she had had to do, giving 'social events' at the 'big house' my relatives used to live in when my Papa was with the British Government, as a Commissioner.  He held a high position with the Great Indian Railway in India, until they, (all the British) got thrown out, due to Mountbattan and the uprising in 1947 ~ ~ ~ ~ 

My Granny and Papa had many servants, maids, cooks and nurses for each of their five children. As far as I could tell, the servants were treated well. (I was very concerned by this as a child, due to my reading a book on slavery, which upset me very much indeed.)  Granny, poor soul, listened to me for hours also, as I constantly bombarded her with questions on her life, my life, anyone's life. 

My questions on death were not satisfactorily answered and being told people who died went into heaven or hell, did not make sense.  For one thing, I had read in the Bible where it says there is no heaven until Jesus comes back again at Armageddon.  So where were the dead people or their spirits meanwhile?  Limbo has been the best answer I could find.  Many Christians seem to want to overlook that aspect, makes them feel more comfortable I suppose.

I always said I wanted to be a writer of books, so that I could tell everyone about all I learned, (innocently thinking no-one else might know what I managed to find out).  Aspects of death and where the 'spirit' went, fascinated me and I remember being called, 'morbid'.  I could not believe that the thought processes could disappear just because the body disintegrated and deteriorated with death.  The 'we', which I now understand is the 'I', cannot become extinct and I was correct, as it does not.  This line of thinking has lead me to the greater understanding I have now, which actually makes sense to me.  It has a great deal to do with electricity and vibrations.

Anyhow, back to the past ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Just one of the memories my Granny told me about involved the time she and Papa had gone out socialising one evening only to get back home and find that their youngest baby son had died.  His Ayiah, (nurse) was distraught, as well she might be, for she had been in the habit, without my Granny's knowledge, of putting a little sleeping draught on cotton wool, under the nose of her little 'charge' to help the child go to sleep, thus giving her (the Ayiah) some peace.

The child, William, (who would have been my Uncle) had been given too much sleeping drought and so had gone deeply unconscious and died. I knew Granny was very upset when she told me this, although she hid it well.  But my questions were, "I hope you were able to console the Ayiah, she didn't mean for that to happen. How will she be able to live with herself?   What happened to her?" I had just started school, so must have been about five years old.

Granny stared at me with tears streaming down her cheeks and she hugged me.   She then took my chin in her hands, staring straight into my eyes, and said, "Child, you have the spirit of an old woman!" Her words are still very clear to me, although at the time I did not understand what she meant or if she was cross with me.  But she hugged me again, tight to herself and we both cried.

I knew we were crying for William, the Ayiah and for Granny. (Must stop for a minute, I can't see as my eyes are brimming and I don't know why after all this time, apart from me picturing my beloved Granny's face.) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Children in my school were only white and so automatically I was disliked and ridiculed, due to being the only child there who was brown coloured. Although my mother was much darker than me, my father was white, part Spanish/English) The priest from the Church next door to the school, used to take me into the Church at playtimes and as I was tiny for my age, he would carry me around and we would light the candles.  I can still see his kind wrinkled face and hear his laugh. 

He would tell me that Jesus loved me and was always standing by me, no matter what the other children said, or did.  So I was to never think that I was alone. This priest, 'Father Jarrot', had christened me and was also a friend of my Granny's who was very religious too.  I remember Father Jarrot mostly, as he was my first friend.   We continued to light those candles in his church for the rest of the five years I was at that school.  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was about seven years old when my mother became very angry with me and it was also the first time I saw her cry, (apart from when I fell  off of my hobby horse into the fire).  She could smell the bleach in my bath water.   I had been trying to bleach myself a lighter colour. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My parents took me away from my Granny when I was 10 years old and I was heartbroken.  (I had two brothers by then, one had breathing troubles.)  Our doctor told my parents it would be better for that brother to be healthier and a life out in the country, instead of living in the smog filled air, would be much better for him.  Even at that age, I loved living in North London.  I soon made it my business to come back when I was older!

This was the beginning of my REAL bad times.   (I ran away from home at seventeen years of age, with a man I hardly knew, (who turned out to be a junkie!) after my last beating ever from my father, and was homeless, (for the first time) and begging on the streets in the East End of London, for the both of us!)

(There is a lot to tell about my life, from being born, to the age I am now, but I can not tell too much here, due to my next book being my Autobiography.)  My writing here is going to appear jerky, for want of a better word, as I do not want to give away that much about myself and have to omit the really interesting and tragic details out! This as you can imagine, means that I can only tell you small parts and feel very guilty for not sharing with you, the incredible twists and turns my life took from such an early time and continued to do so, even up to this ripe old age!

I think it is best if I explain that I have lived the kind of life that might have driven some people crazy, as it has been filled with non-stop action, emotions, trauma, disasters, physical and mental abuse, illnesses, operations (and not only mine,) guilt, grief, loss, being blamed for things I never did.  I even had the bad luck to be used as a scape goat, several times!  I struggled to be determined not to be 'put down' by the bad luck that life, (or whatever else) throws at you, well maybe you too, but I meant me.

My optimistic nature has prevented the death of me, shall I say, even though I tried to cause the death of myself several times!   I was blown up in a gas explosion once! I would love to go deeper, but here and now is not the time.  I shall soon be telling the world all about my life, in as much detail as I can remember and through the memories of other's whose lives have touched mine ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You might understand if I say that I have moved home 117 times (have ALL the addresses written down and there is a story to each and every one of them) I had to keep starting afresh, in so many different towns, and mostly on my own.  (My reasons will be very understandable, once I tell you why I had to keep moving).  My main theme in life seemed to be surviving it, but throughout, every time a door was closed, it wasn't long before I had a choice of a few others and each was a gamble. 

At times it felt like the 'Twilight Zone' television show!  It was mostly a choice of which was the best decisions from the worst ones.    Many did not pay off. I hope to complete my Autobiography as soon as possible, as I will not be able to move on until I do now. It has to be faced, written down and then consciously forgotten.

I, above all people should not be going high profile, but this story just has to be told.   When you read it, as I hope you will, it should make sense that what I am trying not to say right now, is why I have to be careful as a lot of people can get into trouble. Including me, probably! I have to get it all out of my head and recorded, so that it was not all in vain.  There is so much here, that all kinds of people will be able to relate to something in my life and they will know that they have not been alone in their suffering.   I know, and others who know me have said my story will be of great hope and consolation to those who are going through times, that they feel are just too unbearable for them to continue.

I also have seen the suffering of gay men who couldn't accept that they just happened to be 'gay.' My own 6ft 2" broad shouldered brother, Andy, found it very difficult when he realized that he was gay at seventeen years and in the RAF. To get him out of the RAF, he had to prove he was gay and I was the witness who helped him!  (Hilarious tales about this to be revealed later.)  He was suicidal and luckily I was around.  He moved in with me several times and I went to his first gay clubs with him.  I love new experiences and I certainly got them there.  I did not like the gay women much, (with crew cuts, large jaws and huge arms) who were chasing me a lot harder than any man ever did!  Frightening!  It did not take long for the gay’s to get on with me and they asked me to dance with them.  Boy, could they dance!  They are so uninhibited!

I had so many good times with my gay brother.  He was so full of dignity, charm and extremely manly. Apart from when he used to pinch my mascara to put on his eyelashes and use a tiny bit of underlining.  But, he looked good with it, so why not? In the past, it was men who used make up and wigs not the women.  When did all that change and why?  Andy also got into as much trouble as I used to, if not a bit more.  But some of the escapades we both got ourselves into were absolutely hilariously funny. 

Andy bought a the title of ‘Lord’ for a very princely sum and used his incredible brain to become a millionaire, (but was later put in Ford Prison, in England, for a two and a half million pound fraud, of which he was the 'fall guy.') He had some bad times in prison, but he was a privileged prisoner and was allowed caviar and champagne.

Sadly now, my beloved brother who has been HIV positive for over 10 years, is really ill.  I have found out that although he has been very ill on and off, he is now dying of full blown Aids.  I had hoped that I would 'end’ before he did, so I do not know how I shall cope with this when it happens.

Though there is much sadness in my life story, there is so much hilarity and there is much joy too, though not long lasting, but I was trying to say that, when I get all this stuff out of my head, I can REALLY get on with my life and can let the past go! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the past, searching for my adopted daughters consumed my every thought.  The search for my soulmate and a decent father, (in case I found my daughters) caused me so many wasted years in captivity, instead of concentrating on my career and my life.  I hated my second husband from the day I married him, for that was the exact time I began to find out what he was really like.   My life trying to escape from him would take up half a book.

I was alone for quite a while until I met an incredible guitarist, mulit-instrumentalist, singer and songwriter, Tony.  We became a successful ‘duo’ going out as 'Chilli Pepper'.  We were extremely popular and were always booked for a year ahead, to entertain.  Tony's mother, Mary Kay, was the mistress of Tommy Cooper, the UK comedian, who was as famous as anyone could get.  Mary wrote a book all about her life with him.  Of course, I knew the secret parts and will tell in my Autobiography. (She won’t mind, as most of it has been exposed.)

Tony was friendly with Pink Floyd.  They lived near us in Crouch End, London and he would often play guitar with them. Cutting a long story short as usual, Tony and I got on great, although it was mostly a ‘spiritual’ relationship.  We are still friendly to this day. He and Rocky have met and like each other.  I shall be using some of Tony’s talents on my recordings through the internet. 

In between the short time I spent with my four husbands and six common-law-husbands, I had lived alone and hardly dated. I was celibate.  It does not take long to adapt to not having the physical comfort, that a close relationship usually brings.  (My dreams had to suffice) I was not going to go out and give myself to just anybody.  I only went out on dinner dates, or on short holiday trips, accompanied by friends.  Or, to watch various musician friends at their gigs, when I would get up and ‘guest’ as it is called.

Sometimes, I was busy sorting out musicians and keeping a band together and spent time rehearsing,   sorting out the usual problems with personality clashes and so on. In other words, I kept myself occupied doing something a bit challenging and which I greatly enjoyed.  Well, although I have had the equivalent of ten ‘divorces,’ I have not had relationships in between that.  I found it preferable to live alone, than to live with a person who made me unhappy, angry, irritated, or, who made me lose my temper, or, worse still, tried to make me lose my confidence as a woman! 

Many men try to do this to a partner if they are attractive, in a bid to keep them from thinking they might be able to do better elsewhere and risk a better life with a man/woman who would be more suitable. 

How I came through it all, is a wonder to all who know me! I have been educated, but I write the way I talk and think. So as you can see, I am not at all conventional!
 

Who would have imagined at this age, that I would still have such a strong survival instinct, but I have and shall make my dreams come true? With what is going on now, it is very likely, believe me and I am amazed at my luck, in what I have been offered. 

If you want to see a photo of my Rocky, look at my poetry, entitled 'Soulmates do Exist' and you will see who I am very much in love with and intending to spend the rest of my life with. (Quick insertion here; It is November 2008 and I am still with Rocky!)

AMERICA, the best!    

For now I can say, "I LOVE CHICAGO!" Definitely my kind of town! Made So many new friends already! NOT so in Nashville, Tennessee, but will report on that later. I have a great deal more to add over the next few days, or at least within the week.

I hope you will all grow to understand my personality, and appreciate my honesty, even when telling of things that might give me the title of being eccentric to say the least!  I have been told that I am a cross between Tina Turner & Elvis Presley with their type of charisma, Dolly Parton with her figure and Ruby Wax of the sometimes undiplomatic way of speaking out, but definitely a humorous person. (Don't let that put you off getting to know me!) I knew Tracey Ullman before she took off with her fame and hope to still track her down. We shall meet again, you and I that is! Either here of in my official website. I shall be back!

     Visit me at; www.donni-jay.com

       Thank you!