Working with youth during times of constant weather change has a certain affect on youRead More
For my grandfather, Duane WittRead More
Both my sisters and my cousins (on my father's side) had naturally curly hair. With curly hair comes the dreaded occurence of "naps" or balled up clusters of curly hair that have become tangled together over a short period of time and that always (ALWAYS) had to be untangled through sheer force. " What's up, cuz?" was the usual greeting I was offered with their urban toungue weighin in heavily upon their linguistic cadences. In moments of pure superfluity, in between hairstyles and treatment appointments, you could see them lounging about in my aunt's house with their hair in it's untamed form, along with a dozen or so of us kids at a time, jam packed into the only room with video games.
My aunt would say that their hair was "wild". In some ways, I feel that taming their hair somehow, bit by bit, tamed them. Not to say that they were truly wild or anything, but more so their personal outlooks on life began to fluctuate as time went on and hair styles changed. As they got older, they no longer relished their hair and it's length, forgoing it's time consuming neccessities for shorter do's, perms, braids or what have you.
Sometimes, I miss their "wild child" days, where everyone spoke freely, cared less about their outfit and only wanted some of your "nowlaters".