Sun rise, Sun burn

Minus Twelve Inches

My haircut took a long time-- I was almost late for the talk. And I had such mixed feelings as I was waiting in the lounge area of the salon about what I would allow to happen-- all clouded by fear. Every few years, I usually cut off about six inches of hair, and no matter what idea I came in with, I would leave with the same haircut and tears of regret.

So while I was sitting in the salon, my printed pictures in hand, casually thumbing through a haircut magazine for other ideas, I became afraid. In a fit of conservatism, I selected a back-up cut that would meet my needs and be less dram-/traumatic than the one I had selected.

I saw a person come out of the cutting area, with a cut cute for her but something my mom would get and I feared. She had a young girl with her, maybe in her teens, with the exact same haircut. I shuddered. Then the young girl paid for her cut and left, and I realized the older woman was one of the stylists. My fear shoot up. Is this the woman who would cut my hair? Could she possibly create the fun, young, chunky haircut I desired, or would I also have the feathered beehive that would turn into a mullet in the Indiana humidity? I hid my printout under the magazine, turning to the page with the longer (easier-to-grow-out) cut, even imagining that after all this, I still might say, "Just an inch off the bottom, please." The stylist went back behind the curtain. Sigh, not for me.

Eventually, I young woman with medium length, thick hair, and a big tattoo on her arm. Good, I thought. A young woman with a tattoo could get it right. The print-out came back out.

As she began talking to me, looking at my profile to judge the length, massaging my scalp, I started to see how young she was, and I started getting nervous again. At one point, she said, "ok, now I am going to consult with Chi-Wah. That's what we do here." Chi-Wah turned out to be a person, not just the name of the salon. And she turned out to be the woman I had seen earlier. Perhaps I was wrong? Perhaps that young girl wanted an older haircut?

As the cut progressed, it also was revealed my stylist was Chi-Wah's daughter, and while Chi-Wah was checked the other stylist's progress also, she hovered near, checking on the progress of my hair. They both said, "Would you like to keep the ponytail?" I have kept them in the past, but always had to ask. This was so formal! Sure! The hair was carefully pony-tailed, and attention drawn as she cut it off. It was dramatic, but not tramatic like the last time I had had that done. ("You're too old for long hair, I'm just going to chop it off.") She did it, and I didn't cry. It felt good, lighter.

So, blah blah, the girl starts cutting, and at one point, Chi-Wah comes over and starts critiquing, then offers to help, and soon both are flat-ironing my hair and when it is time to cut the layers, Chi-Wah takes offer, talking her daughter through the steps, and referring to me as "the client." When it was done, I was shocked, but not unhappy. I flipped it around. I liked it more.

Here is what it looked like the next day. It was still holding the shape/style/ironing of the cut yesterday, although my atrocious roots still need attending.

And here is what it looked like post-shower. My hair has some natural waviness, and I had asked for a cut that could work straight or with this wave. I'm pretty pleased!

Possible explanation for warm spot

My mosquito bite has made a section of my arm a little puffy, red, and hot to the touch. Perhaps it is not what I think it is.

Grave Spider

My parents said on the phone, "we're glad to see nothing upsetting has happened lately."

30-something

Dearest readers,

Some of you may not know this, but I have a 'big' birthday coming tomorrow. Don't drop your laptop to run and get me a card. I understand. You didn't know. But here is a list of goodies that it seems to me a woman of my eminent age might need.

Cool necklaces - I am not much of a jewelry person, but I do like being decorated with conversation pieces.
Sex and the City - from the few episodes I saw, this is the definitive guide to being 30-something. Among other things. Thank goodness I also don't have to deal with dating. And it makes me laugh. That keeps me young. By the way, this is $50 cheaper @ Target!
A facial - I know I don't do this girlly stuff. But maybe I am getting to an age where I need it.
Flash Card Reader - boring but useful. $30 dollar rebate until the end of the month too!
Hasselblad body - This model is about ... 30-something years younger that the one I use.
Wide-angle lens for Hasselblad - cause it's awesome
White-balance filter - I have spent a lot of hours lately doing my white balance. This thingy is supposed to make it so I don't have to!
Southworth and Hawes print - cause it's awesome

That's all for now. I can't really think of anything else. I'm pretty straight forward that way, and most of my toys are expensive. Sorry.

Have a great night.

K.S.W.

Yes, yes, it all ends too soon.

Self-Portrait of an Artist in Defiance of Her Aging

Peace and War

Enter Ohio

I am in Cleveland, in a Best Western. It is after midnight. I watched t.v. on the computer, because there were more shows available on the internet than on the antennae-based television in the room. I talked to J earlier via video chat. I'm starting to see how the internet will replace everything-- t.v., radio, phones, commuting. Something as mundane as a road trip seems time consuming, simple, slow. Sure I can listen to a book, and I am making progress towards a destination, but I can't shake the feeling I am not getting anything done. Yes, I know-- getting there is half the fun. That means looking around, stopping at local spots, etc. But all the 'local spots' suddenly look the same. Is this Arby's any different from that one? Is this vine-covered, falling-down barn any different than the one in C'ville, Indiana? True, I saw a beautiful red barn with a purple metal roof today. That may be a bigger statement that Indiana is ready for. But I couldn't get to it to even to a picture for the Internet-- why are there no off-ramps in middle America? How do you get to all those houses? How to the people who live there get to stores, airports, cities? Are they really so self-sufficient that they don't need to??

I smuggled cats into the hotel room. It is harder to do alone than with someone. But they are a comfort. I wish they could be out in the car during the drive, that they enjoyed it more (I mean, they sleep the whole time at home, why is sleeping in the car so distressing to them?).

Anyway, I have nothing terribly witty to say right now. I will try to think of better insights in the morning.

On the Banks of the Wabash-- that didn't really happen

I have this saying I like to use in a joking manner, whenever you see t.v. or movies give you obvious foreshadowing-- "This can only end in tears." But I wouldn't think that in real life, no sir, never. But you wouldn't believe what did actually happen yesterday, and everything miraculously turned out all right. For a moment, I did think it. My brain whispered, "This can only end...", and I had to say, "Shh. I'm busy right now."

Which is probably why I am convinced it couldn't have possibly happened-- no one is this lucky.

We are still parsing the information. More soon. Let's say, we made the cover of the local section of the paper. And the grass is very green today. The sky is very blue.

link to music to accompany this post

To the past

Dear M,

Could you believe this town has two of these? I pass one each day on the way to work, depending which route I take. I think of you each time. Do you remember? It was so funny; we laughed and laughed. Well, you did, I guess. I wasn't there, so it was never as funny to me. But you laughed and I wanted to make you laugh, so I thought of you whenever I saw one. They are such weird things, and it is odd they exist at all. They are both more rare and more common than I would have thought.

Anyway, there it is. Back from a time when we were still together, but you could already see how we would end. I denied it, which is why losing you hurt so much. I thought we would be old maids together, fighting in the same room of the nursing home.

I meet someone here who reminds me of you, is even the person I thought you would become (back when we were kids). It is both painful and wonderful to see her, even though we do not have the same friendship you and I had. Being friends as an adult seems like a tragedy, compared to those of childhood. To laugh as riotously at nothing, to not need alcohol or exotic food or fancy clothes. It was enough to stand in a circle, feet touching, to take a picture and think it would last forever.


Oh nostalgia, how you stab me in the eye when I stare at you too hard.

Denver and Hair

My Hair in Denver

I'm out there

I just found a picture of me on a website. It is a website I didn't know about, but was excited to find. Then, there at the bottom, is a picture of me. Like it knew I was coming and would want to be there. And it was waiting.

Proof of Life

Still here. Still alive.

Proof of Life

The Artist in the Studio

Hope you are as amused by my 'artist-at-work' face as I am.

New Mexico, 26 degrees F

I woke up around 6 AM. J drove all night to try to make up for our late start. I had been at the wheel all day before conceding control around 2 in the morning (1AM California time-- we crossed our first time zone). I dosed on and off between 2 AM and dawn. The cat medicine wasn't working anymore-- Dharma meowed the whole night.

We got into New Mexico and missed most of Arizona in darkness. Actually, we passed the Thing right when I was falling asleep. It was closed so we couldn't stop. I took over driving and he went to sleep. I only let him sleep a little while, because to was too beautiful a drive to enjoy alone.

Update
I saw the Thing once when I was eighteen and on a road trip with my Grandma. I won't give it away, although I am sure the above link does. Let's just say I was surprised to find something so cathartic and silently unexpected. My first site-specific art piece, made in 1998, was in direct response to this piece, and named for it. I regret we are in such a hurry to get where we are going we cannot stop at more roadside phenomenons such as this.

Phoenix, Arizona

Stopped to have a late dinner with J's brother.