I'm my hair, I am my hair,
It's all the glory that I bare
I am my hair-am my hair
I am my hair--am my hair yeah!
I've had enough this is my prayer
that I'll die living just as free as my hair!
One of my oldest friends from college came to visit me this weekend. We had not seen each other for several years. It never seems to matter how long it has been, the minute we get together, it was just yesterday and we pick right back up where we left off.
We stayed up too late for old women---she mentioned we'd been friends now for thirty years. I told her that she should stop counting or folks might start to think we were becoming older or something.
She has one of the bests laughs ever....and Cecil really did like her. She swore I had been lying about him being a Devil Dog from the gates of Hell....but within three minutes of arriving, she was fighting to keep him down. He was pouncing and bouncing and jumping and barking. He really, really loved her. We are trying to convince her to take him back home with her to let him be the mascot of the special preschool where she is the administrator. She has graciously declined.
We got up early and with off color daughter, Madi as our direction giver, we went downtown to an annual arts and crafts show. We had to park several blocks away in an old neighborhood with large trees and cute houses with lots of gardens and wicker and swings. It was photography heaven for those of us who walk with a camera in their hands.
Off color daughter was getting very mad at but silent as we older women stopped and stooped and oohed and ahhed....
she was pretty patient but I could tell that if her godmother had not been there....she would have been giving me hell!
We saw bright yellow houses, green and red doors,
cool gates and a strange variety of other sites.
The art festival was filled with very unique art and a local crafts. It was not like the usual church craft show with crocheted crafts and ceramics but was much more upscale with artists from all over the state.
Paintings splashed color as we walked,
carved wooden bowls and hand made pottery
jewelry of all kinds
were the sights to take in....
the air was filled with the smell
of barbecue smoking, hot dogs cooking, catfish frying and
Carmel corn swirling.
Children and dogs and sweaty parents ran into each other
and around each other and energy from all of them clashed together in a warm but crazy chaos.
As we walked we saw an older grandma of a woman dressed in blue jeans...well kinda blue jeans.....
jeans with lace legs...she was a bleach blond, had on bright red flip flops and a southern loud drawl
she was directing all the other women in the group...
she is what my friend and I called in college, KIA (code for Know It ALL). I took a sneak picture---someday I'll have to post it.
As we were walking, off color daughter saw the girl above,
and we happened to be following her. She had cute tattoos, was dressed with a variety of ankle bracelets and cool green shades and her hair was absolutely amazing. Off color daughter and I had a talk about how cool it was and she informed me she wanted hair just like it.
I felt myself have the same response that I had when I saw the purple house up in Cincinnati and I could not resist looking and wondering about how wonderful it must be to be so young but yet so free from the confines of
the expectations of what most people consider
Of course, I was drawn to her. I wanted to know her story and hear how she came to be so free and colorful.
I watched her. Lusted after her free spirited colorful way of being in the world..... So finally, I did it. I embarrassed my friend and my off color daughter. Without thinking about what I would say or how I would ask, I heard myself say...
Can I take a picture of your hair?
How long did it take for you to get this to happen?
What do you do to start it up?
Do you think a forty something woman is too old to have colorful dreads?
Her smile was energetic and her spirit warm...
She smiled and said sure and was patient with me as I asked my questions.
Her name is Twig and she was there with her mom...
she was almost as colorful as any of the art we viewed.
I appreciated her kindness and the fact that she shared so much of herself with a perfect stranger. She said her mom was like me so she was used to it--meaning she'd talk to anyone.
I asked her permission to post her picture on my blog...
I admire your freedom in spirit,
your colorful way of being in the world,
your rainbow colored woven hair,
your ankle bracelets and
your catty tattoos and your friendly smile.
I'd love to know your story...the story of your journey...
best of luck for you in New York...
and in life..
don't ever loose your artsy spirit,
your color or
your energetic spirit.
I am thankful
for old friends
who are as close as family,
a daughter who is open to hanging with two older and wiser photography queens,
for warm air,
a cold diet Pepsi,
the wonder of
color, spirit, and friends.
Blessings to all of you...