Little Red Spider Hood

Little Red Spider Hood
photograph by Michelle Lennon

So Many Masks....

So Many Masks....
Yet none completely hide me from me.


very odd...
nothing fits
puzzle pieces
intentionally twisted
placed on a board
upside down

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Four Leaf Clover

Perhaps we could all use a little luck...

Thursday, July 26, 2007


What we are today

is but a dim reflection

of what we were

and a faint glimmer

of what we will be

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

To and Fro... now where to go.

People coming to and fro

leaving here going there

people knowing

people showing


What more can I say?

Monday, July 23, 2007

Monday again?

Saturday, July 21, 2007

It's Saturday!

Hope and Need
Hope is a four letter word

Need is a Curse
Yet I am hopelessly cursed

with the Need to hope.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

It is not always easy to get from here to there, but you cannot get there without trying.

I am trying to get a job in NYC that I probably have a snowballs chance in hell of getting, but I thought... if each person that reads this closes their eyes and prays or if you don't pray think really hard of me getting it. It surely can't hurt.

Monday, July 16, 2007

What is the point?

Somedays I just wonder

why bother

Friday, July 13, 2007

Pain Before Beauty...

Pain before Beauty

In our early years, pain is limited to our personal experience; beauty is illuminated for us by what we are taught is beautiful. Our parents’ concept of beauty becomes our own until we journey further though life discovering for ourselves new perceptions.

My early perceptions of pain and beauty were gathered and learned by watching my mother dress. A wince as she plucked a few errant brow hairs, the apparent torture as she squeezed into a girdle, her shoes too tight yet they perfectly created the illusion of delicate feet. Time and again I asked, “Why do you do all of that if it hurts?” Her answer was always the same, “Pain before beauty”.

Even now, over the span of decades, her personal mantra, “Pain before beauty”, still echoes. To me, my mother was beauty. Her auburn hair glimmered gold when the sun touched it, ivory skin so soft when our cheeks touched I thought of velvet, lips full and painted red, and a waist so small that her full skirts and petticoats seemed to exist just to cling to it. The scent of Shalimar lingered to guard me as she moved to leave, her silks and satins playing a symphony.

As I watched the theater of my mother my perceptions of pain and beauty were simple; beauty was my mother and pain part of the quest for beauty, or perhaps just a scraped knee.Life visits itself upon me and pain no longer is as simple as a scraped knee or even a plucked brow.

Pain now encompasses heartache, betrayal, the suffering of those I love, lost innocence and the loss of faith. Beauty is a face that wrinkles with a smile, a mother nursing her child, courage in the eyes of a veteran, laughter, the innocence of a playing child, and unwavering faith. “Pain before beauty” became to me the mantra of a vain woman.

Ten years of fighting cancer left my mother little reason for vanity. Faith replaced vanity. Her mantra became the Hail Mary; instead of pearls she wore scapulars and clutched a rosary as she once clutched an evening bag. Her cheeks were now ashen and lined from pain, hair merely faded tufts clinging to her scalp, lips cracked and dry. The scent was of medicine; the symphony not of silk against satin but the drip of IV’s against the faltering ping of her life monitor.

At the end, we waited as she lay in a coma; her eyes opened and looking past us at once focused on the crucifix on the far wall. The joy was complete; she saw what we could not, save through her eyes. She was not afraid; she smiled and nodded as if in answer to a question and then, in a moment of rapture her soul departed, leaving the smile upon her face.

Now, I realized that with faith she had a different beauty, and I truly understood - “Pain before beauty.”

“Pain before beauty” was no longer a vain woman’s mantra to me, but a courageous woman’s epitaph.

Renée Soulié© copyright 2005

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Dragonfly is the totem of the dreamtime, and illusion. Dragonfly gives us the gift of communication with the nature spirits. Dragonfly teaches us how to differentiate between the real and the imaginary energies of life, and to bring your thoughts and actions into a form which you can bring into the reality of your life. And this is why I have a dragonfly tattoo... to always remind me to live my dreams not get caught up in the dreaming itself.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Is it still Monday!????

I can't do a thing with my hair!

Ugh... The Best things about Monday

Is that first cup of Coffee....

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Sunday Drive....

For Sunday.... throw caution to the winds.

Forget the chores.

I am taking my little car for a drive to the beach...

Friday, July 6, 2007

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Thursday After The Fourth

I want to be here....

so much more than here...



"Surround Me" by Chris Sotiri

"Surround Me" by Chris Sotiri

I am not sure how things happen nor can I explain them... be that as it may this man's music came into my world. The how isn't important... But the first song I listened to "Surround Me" exposed, expressed and exhaled how I feel.
More of his music can be found

Wash away this life, put it all behind
Won't take anymore, this tired soul can't fight
I am not afraid, to leave everything
There's a world, where I won't be in pain

Surround Me, Surround Me
I've lost what I need
Surround Me, Surround Me

My heart was torn away, ever since that day,
Never will forget, one fateful mistake
Visions of the end, play back time again
There's a place, where I won't feel a thing

Surround Me, Surround Me
I've lost what I need
Surround Me, Surround Me

How can one live, just suffering,
How can one live, so helplessly,
How do you live??

Surround Me, Surround Me
I've lost what I need
Surround Me, Surround Me

Surround Me, Surround Me
I found I'll never be
Surround Me

Borrowed Time

Borrowed Time

what will you leave unsaid?

what will you leave unsaid?
We don't get time back. But we can make the most of our future.

The Missing Piece

The Missing Piece
Song by Don Rudnickas

The Missing Piece by Don Rudnickas

I am convinced... we all want to find that missing piece. But what do we do if we do find it?


Life Burnishes our souls creating a patina and yet it is still beautiful splinters and all.

Trouble Sick by Don Rudnickas

Trouble Sick by Don Rudnickas
Below is a new song by my buddy Don... All Rights Reserved.

Trouble Sick by Don Rudnickas.

Click to Play

Patiently Waiting

Patiently Waiting
Image by L Margaux

searching for the meaning of life?