Still Life with Soap and Dishes

There comes a time in most every woman's life when she acquires the fortitude to slough off the weight of the past and finally ventures into fresh new territory.

But are we really like those little Russian papier-mâché babushka dolls with the child inside the girl inside the woman? Is our 'self' at the core, covered by layers and layers that need to be shed? Or, could it be that we must add layer upon layer to build upon our past until we discover who we really are?

(pictured above - one scene from a contemplative day - breakfast dishes basking in the soft glow of late morning light, awaiting Richard's able hands to restore them to cleanliness)