Katelynn’s Touch Hair and Skin Care

I have other posts here about the quality of food and thought I’d add a good product for your skin. Take a look. what do you think. Go to her blog and read what she is about.

katelynnstouch

With the Commercial Market being saturated with “natural ingredients”, it makes you wonder how natural are the products you are buying. Lately, I been noticing that the average consumer especial everyday moms with children have been converting to natural products for hair and skin. When you look at the ingredients on the products, have you been told that if you cannot pronounce the words, then it’s not good for you. Well, most of us are just wanting a better lifestyles internally with our bodies. This is why I developed a 100% all natural Hair and Skin Care line called Katelynn’s Touch Hair and Skin Care.

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Will Ya Still Need Me -When I’m 64

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The puzzle pieces of my life are coming together. I find life to be amazing. I don’t think I fully appreciated my life before now. Life slaps us right and left and often knocks us down. It’s up to us to pick ourselves up or complain about how difficult it is and give up. Especially when we’re older. We think it’s too late to begin again and settle for watching other people’s lives on TV. (I threw mine away 25 years ago)

 

Music band "Edison
1968 with Top 40 band “Edison” in Denver, Co.

It has taken a lot of work, time and patience. Earlier in my music career there was no “online”. If you weren’t signed, you couldn’t get your music out to the public except through live gigs. I became sick with an undiagnosed disease called Hep C. Eventually It put me down. I developed liver cancer, end stage liver disease, severe osteoporosis which caused bones to break and a few other illnesses.

I came very close to dying. I got a liver transplant and had a few body parts removed in the nick of time. After 2 years bedridden and an even longer climb to as much normalcy as possible I began writing the blog My Name is Jamie for a prison inmate who is also the father of one grandson. I beganto write music again and put it on blog posts. I then began writing a book, “Inside the Forbidden Outside” ( In second draft ) I knew if I wanted to help him when he gets out it would be through this book and music – promoted as a soundtrack to read by. I also started the newsletter ITFO NEWS also can’t survive on a disability check for the rest of my life. Working a regular job would be difficult because of pain from what osteoporis did to my vertibrea.

Music was always my love. For many years I played piano bars, worked in bands and taught piano. Now no one can afford to pay me for lessons in the small Pa town I live in that was close to the transplant hospital. So I made the decision to resurrect my music career and play again. I’ve been recording and working hard to create an online presence. My music is now on several websites

SkunkRadioLive

ReverbNation

Piano Improv Music of Sonni Quick – artist facebook page

Online stats will make or break a musician today. Becoming a “fan”, leaving comments and sharing will make a big difference on my finding a booking agent. Other people listen to music they see others have liked. Next week I have a photo shoot lined up. I’m not the young woman in the picture anymore. I’m 63. I no longer sing. Too many years of 5 nighters in smokey bars took care of that. But I also no longer do cover material. My ability to create piano improv pictures in your mind surpasses my piano playing of  It comes from a deep emotional place. It is who I became instead of playing someone else’s creation.

Today I classify my music as “Stories Without Words” which is the title of an album I am coming out with shortly. When the book is ready, another album will be released with the same cover and promoted together. If I do a good job and if it is promoted right, when Jamie gets out of prison I will have a business put together that will also include lecturing on the negative issues of prison that need to be changed. What he has been through opened my eyes to something I had never given a thought to. He can use his story to help others.

Those who have read my blogs have seen the progress. On many early posts you will many piano pieces – and  poetry. ln Over 3 years this went from being just a dream and a desire to help a man who deserves a second chance. We’ve been writing since 2006, helping each other through tough times. As a black man he was put through some awful things no person should have gone through. It is why mass incarceration and the destruction of black lives is so much in the media. It needs to change. We can’t just look the other way and wait for someone else to fix it.

I want my life to count for something. I want to help make this country – and the world – a better place. I don’t want to go out with a whimper. So I push myself – past my doubt and fears. I push myself beyond my physical limitations. I wake up excited every day and start spinning my seven plates in the air to keep them moving forward. I don’t ask myself if I can do it – I just do it.

My music is haunting, peaceful with beautiful melodies. At the end of a stressful day, put on head phones, close your eyes and let it be the soundtrack of your dreams, too. Never give up. Do what makes you happy. Do something different. We all have had dreams of something we wanted to do but perhaps life pulled us in a different direction. We don’t have to settle for that. No matter how old you are or how young you are, life is for living and no one else can live it for you.

Jamie Life in Prison Facebook page with parts focusing on injustice everywhere and blog posts

Twitter page

The Waking Hour – Piano Improv

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Sonni Quick Piano Improv Music

The  music I record are not “arrangements”. They are stories without words. Played once, recorded and never played again. It is based on emotions I feel. I let my hands play what they want. 

This piece is part of a collection recorded for a book I’m  writing – a soundtrack. Much like music would set the tone for a movie, this music expresses the feelings in each individual chapter. THE CHAPTER – The Waking Hour can be found at My Name is Jamie

Why Do So Many Not Care About Their Health?

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As I watch people around me, I don’t understand why so many care so little. Everyone has access to learn the things I’ve learned over the years. The attitude I hear most is, “You have to go somehow.”

I enjoy living. I love life. I want to keep dreaming and growing, enjoying life for as long as I can. This is what I don’t see and hear from so many. I think that is sad.

I see this in my own family. The taste of certain foods is worth more than the illnesses it causes. Memory loss and other illnesses are now looked at as expected normal old age diseases because they happen so often. Sadly, many could be avoided. I try to educate my family but it goes in one ear and out the other. Not only do people have to be cared for when an illness hits, quality years of living disappears. I know this well as today I help my disabled mother pack up her home and give away or store her entire life because she needs to move. She had a diabetic stroke that hit the small blood vessels in her brain. For ten years I tried to teach her how to eat but she wouldn’t listen. Was that bad eating worth it? No, it’s heart breaking.

Below is a comment I left at an article I thought worth repeating.

<<< >>>

 

So many people over these past few decades now believe memory loss is just what happens when you get old and yes, sometimes it is, but the percentage, as with cancer has skyrocketed. Even though the info is out there, too many people continue to eat the chemical laden and chemical sprayed food every day that our country produces. Food is not the same. Looking at people around you will show you that. Fresh food sprayed with,especially Monsanto Round Up Ready will cause many health issues yet people continue to eat commercially produced food because they “like”it. But a loaf a bread today is not the same. A box of Triskets, cereal and fresh food like potatoes, squash, Brussels Sprouts, peaches, grapes, strawberries have chemicals your body doesn’t know what to do with.

I’m tired now of trying to tell people. No one listens. They don’t care. They have all kinds of illnesses and excuses.They’d rather die than change what they eat. Eating these products affect the brain. They destroy their gut and it affects their brain. Now when people I know get sick I just say, Gee, that’s too bad. Maybe they should have listened. Maybe they should have loved themselves a little more. You can “try” to eat better. Either you do or you don’t. There is no middle ground. Wake up America. Other countries won’t allow our food in their countries because it is so contaminated.

Fear… 

———I read this today and felt as though this person, who doesn’t know me – knew me. When do we stop pretending everything is okay with someone when it is not. When you have to “keep it light” because someone can’t handle a conversation any deeper than the weather so you can tell them what is really in your head. What kind of relationship is that when you can only put on a face and pretend everything is okay – when it isn’t.

crashingstone


Not to express

What you think is right

Not to say

What you think is wrong

Shadowed under the dark cloud

You live but as dead

Worried what your words might bring

Terrified at the though of thoughtfulness

You stay quiet with a storm within

Rashness all around

Fear in the air

Terror filled in minds

But fake peace on the face

Idiots running the show

And clever hiding behind

Saneness gone in the bin

Insanity gone rogue

Fights on amongst ourselves

And wounds inflicted on us

When will us speak up

And when will we fight back

When will be break the shackles

And undo all the wrongs

When will the cloud go

And the fear disappear

When will we live free

Out of this constant fear?
-RS

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EPILOGUE of a family

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I can’t contain the pain

if I have to witness it over and over again

See the faces of people who

wouldn’t mind if I ceased to exist.

Who wouldn’t care if I was here or not

So long ago I said, two words would make it better

“I’m sorry” I hurt you

“I have nothing to be sorry about.” Ouch.

That slap loosened a tooth

Nothing to be sorry about ringing in my ears

Who wants to deal with that? 

Pretend it wasn’t said.

I can’t do that. My bones break too easily

Do you know what it’s like to a pariah?

Seven years alone with family all around me?

I gave my sister a hug the other day

said thank you, I appreciate you

To show HER how to be human

and she’s supposed to be a Christian?

Maybe God will kick HER through the pearly gates

for being phony

The Golden Rule is useless

if you don’t know what it means – or why

What does that faith teach you?

It doesn’t matter if you hurt someone?

because God forgives the hurtful things you do? 

You think that lets you off the hook?

Or after awhile it just fades away and doesn’t matter?

It matters to me

So sad how some people can be in their righteousness

She would have never tried to hug me

I hope that makes her feel good. 

It sure hasn’t changed her for the better

Too many causes. To many effects to reap

 

Sometimes I want to make my family hurt

as much as they hurt me

That’s wrong. But I’m human, too. I lash out.

She knows pain but she gave mine no validity

She taught her daughter well

She is her mother’s daughter

passes judgement without knowledge

She’s evil with a black heart, but I’ll pray for her

even though I’m just an old hag, drug addict

The other one is just a long lost cause

I tried – gave her a part of me. Gave it with love 

It was wasted. She spit it back at me

Kicked me, too – so callous – then she blamed me 

It’s my fault for thinking she would acknowledge

a gift from my heart

Thank you for your kindness

At least LISTEN to the goddam music I wrote

A 1000 other people did.  She called me names

because I dared to write – my family never learned

to say the words “I’m sorry”

or to say the words  “Thank you”

or “Tell me, what IS YOUR side of the story?

What could you have done?

You could have listened

I was screaming for you to hear me – but no one heard 

How dare I want compassion

You have none to give

It is what the Bible teaches

 

Mom blames me

I should not have left home at 18 with her blessings

She said, “If you have no family now it’s your own fault.”

“You should not have lived your own life in other places

Why should they love you now? Who are you?”

I’m sorry. If I knew I’d be punished for returning

I would have never come.

I thought. . . I was wrong . . . they would care . . .

at least a little

Then it stands to reason

why should my mom love her sister in Mexico?

Like the Amish who shun their children if they leave

I was shunned – because I returned

“People can’t love someone who isn’t there,”

she said, defending her family

even though many of her family loves her

and they live far away

Does she love them any less because of that?

She said I shouldn’t blame them for not caring

it’s my fault my fault my fault

She gathered her family close to her

and set me outside the circle

Made sure they cared more about her wellbeing with nothing left for me

And you don’t even know why

she told the stories she did to make you want to be rid of me

I didn’t understand myself at first 

why she made me not worthy of loving because

“Mom doesn’t lie”

Not a lie, just a twisting of reality

wrapped around her needs

A complete truth was created from it

But it wasn’t the truth

Spider legs of fabricated story line

bears no relation to the truth

Ego can be an ugly thing when wielded like a dagger

Perceived criticism must be punished!

Off with your head!

Even when the criticism was all in your head anyway

 

I begged and begged over the years

“Please tell them the truth.”

You took my family from me

Tell them what you did and why

but ego held her tight

I was accused of harassing her so no truth was told

All these years we talked and talked, “Please fix this”

No one will listen to me. I tried

“It’s not the right time.” “I don’t have the courage.”

“WHAT do you WANT me to do about it now!

I can’t take this anymore!!”

and hung up the phone

From someone who says she never gives up

She gave up

Ego can be a hurtful weapon 

when you sacrifice someone you love to protect yourself

I listen to her talk about HER family and everything they do

STOP! I don’t want to hear about people

who are dead to me!

I was dead to them long before. They killed me first

I just repaid their kindness

 

You keep ripping off the scabs. It’s infected underneath

pus leaks down my legs

It can’t heal – like the death of a son can’t heal

Is your pain deeper? More important?

Do you feel it more? Is pain-pain?

Is the death of a son more important than the death of a family?

I thought they were family

That was my mistake

 

I am a person – a real person – a living, breathing person

I feel things deeply.

It comes out in music no one wants to hear

It comes out in poetry no one wants to read

I lived – and no one cares I did – How can that be so?

Mom said, “Really, they DO love you.” Really?

I’d hate to be on the receiving end of indifference.

I only think she wanted to believe they loved me 

wishful thinking to make me feel better – she knew

you had better things to do

than give me a moment of your time

the price of a stamp on a get well card too much

And it isn’t what you DO

It’s what you say. It’s what you try to understand

A bull in a china shop approach to love is abrasive

You don’t listen. You don’t want to know

 

There was no one to celebrate me – I lived. I didn’t die

So what. No-Big-Deal.

Nothing I’ve been through was important

No one showed me I mattered – except my older sister

Her lying husband killed that

I have those lies in black and white

A dozen times mom said, 

“It’s your own fault for trying

to create a relationship with THAT man”

“I warned you.”

“Do what I do, ” which is nothing, tell everyone, blame her 

and lose your daughter 

while waiting for her to let you in. “What did I do?” Nothing.

making it her fault – never listening to her silent screams

“I’m here. I’m a real person!”

You still think, “What can I do now”

You’re still breathing aren’t you?

but still you wait for her to make it better

Ever think she might be waiting, too?

You’re the mother

Where is your proof? You said,” I never give up!” Did you?

Yes you did. Don’t fool yourself – and you still breathe

Someday you won’t and it really will be too late

The reflection in the mirror tells you the truth

Will you leave this life letting your ego win?

I’m sorry if the truth hurts

 

I saw Cindy. The real Cindy. She saw me – for awhile

But she needed Bill more than she needed a sister

She made a choice to believe

I sent a nasty text I didn’t send to her

At the hospital, she didn’t get the one I really sent

As he reads this lie to everyone

Bastard. Lying phony blowhard plastic Christian

That says it all. Everyone else has said the same thing

He should be ashamed

 

But Cindy? Why would I have hurt

the only one who loved me?

I miss her.  She loved me for a little while. I still have that

The first and ONLY time I ever had a real sister

Bill, in all his new found Christianess

needed her to wear a cross

How would it “look” if she didn’t hold up her end

of the game of massaging his ego 

but I know her true feelings

because he was going to preach now, after he got out of jail 

for waving his drunken gun

feed his large ego – be the center of attention 

I am Buddhist and he said she will NEVER be one

in his control

He lied to her and took away the only family I had 

For 2 years she was the only family I could touch

Then she was gone

 

I made the effort to get my mother back

MY EFFORT. Not hers. Why?

Regrets. I couldn’t let her do to me what happened to Cindy

I couldn’t let her make herself believe

she had done all she could

and believe this mess was all my fault

Telling tales. Making people feel the need

to protect you from me

No courage to open yourself – lay it on the line

“I made a mistake. I didn’t mean to. I love my daughters”

“But I don’t have the courage to change the causes I made

that brought these painful effects.”

You let me hurt. Told me to fix it

 

And I cry for my mother

I love her from the very bottom of my heart

I see the pain of helplessness on her face

She didn’t intend for this to happen

But intentions have no meaning

It’s what you do that counts

That is the cause you made

She’s running out of time – wasting time

She wants to forget about it

She wants to pretend she’s happy in the time she has left

sweep it under the rug, but it won’t stay there

It slithers out and grabs her by the ankle

 

There is an elephant in the room no one wants to see

I’m too busy. It’s not my fault. Who cares anyway.

A broken record. I can’t pick up the pieces by myself 

with people who never wanted to understand

I want to run away – I probably will first chance I get

I won’t tell anyone when I go.

Leave this godawful mess for another lifetime to fix

I’m not strong enough to be around you all

I want to hurt you back

Make you bleed inside.

Pour salt on your wounds and walk away 

laughing – So there! How does THAT feel?

Wouldn’t that make me a terrible person?

I’d be in good company

You can pretend to everyone else

but you can’t pretend to yourself

 

Imagine if all your family died in a plane crash

Left many things unsaid. If I only had the time to say . . .

Sister, of all people knows what it’s like

to not be able to change the past

what would you do different if you had the chance

I’m so sorry about your pain. I feel it deep inside

Do you think she ever thought about mine?

Even my last surgery when I almost lost my arm

and the ability to make music.

No phone call. No “How are you? Are you scared?

 

I’m thinking about you.

Don’t give up hope. I love you.”

So easy. So impossibly hard

She was beyond the ability to care.  They all were. 

So what. Not my problem they thought, if they thought at all

 

If you don’t like I wrote this for the world to read

Maybe you should have listened when I tried to talk.