It's bizarre how dependent my body is on little ticks. Maybe like really good crack, or better yet, like a really dependable poet...I look for meandering lines, sexy metaphors, even a kickass epigraph before I read.
I touch my head while I write, before I say something that requires thought, even while I'm drinking (water, get your heads out of that gutter). There isn't hair to twist anymore in writerly consternation. Even the wind, which I thought I understood, is a strange freak now.
One thing that I've learned in the past three hours is that I used hair as a mask. It was nice to hide behind my mane.. even when it was short, I would shake my head and let some of it fall forward. Embarrassment, frustration, adoration: anything and everything could be disguised. Not anymore...in fact, my girlish ticks look silly now. My head is shiny, and so are my thoughts, and maybe my writing will spice up as well. Or maybe I'll just keep rubbing my head like the cueball it is.
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4 comments:
hmm... now i want to shave my head...
fast forward 10 years, 90% of American poets have shaved heads because of your influence here today. we work better when our brains have extra space for temperature diffusion.
I wanna see the new non-do! this may warrant a special trip.
o-o! do come! either that, or check out the bitchin' picture on facebook (real life is WAY better..plus it's a delight for the fingers)
haha, shaving heads as the new wave of critical theory.. eat that Judy Butler
I've always thought that there was something necessarily sexual about having ones hair cut, especially shaved, because of the closeness to the scalp, the sensation, the tingle, the fear. It's like a prolonged orgasm. [not that I have orgasms on the brain or anything]
I know at least one person who agrees and he's so delectable that I desperately want to cut his hair (though it's so beautiful, I wouldn't have the heart.)
everything above is true.. but times a million.. says the fact that I've always had long hair, and Tiresias' commiseration with the woman's cause.
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