Its a bit odd sometimes, how a shaved head can do wonders to the way I look at myself.
After battling hair and having to deal with hair gel and a comb on most mornings, I decided that I was going to get rid of it once and for all. Again.
Mind you, this isn’t the first time I did this to myself. I have done it before after a bad break up and I did it again to myself to look more…masculine? *snicker* during salsa nationals. Good times. I bet I intimidated quite a bit. My shaved pate was quite the thing back in the day.
And every time I sat down in front of the barber and asked for a “No.3, all over, please” or when I propped up my bedroom mirror against a sink and stood in my shorts and ran the shaver over my head, I would luxuriate in the sensation of the motor running against my head, removing fragments of my dignity.
For some reason, the word dignity seems to fit the best.
Naked and reborn. That is how I felt whenever I finally switched off the shaver and ran my hand over my naked head. It made wearing a cap a lot easier. And beanies. I have horrible hat/cap hair. Honestly, I do.
Probably another escapist theory and I feel like I owe nothing to no one.
Did I ever mention that I love flying?
There’s a whole sense of eternity out there.
There’s the sense that this world is bigger than whatever you think it is and no matter what, you’ve got to wonder just who is the brains behind the outfit.
Plus, I must admit, this is a GORGEOUS photo. *ahem ahem*
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