the big reveal

I just finished the biography of Gypsy Rose Lee and what really struck me (next to her incredibly—for lack of a better word—complicated upbringing) was the concept of the reveal. Taking time to be seen and peeling back the layers with absolute confidence and power while staying with the moment. (“If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing slowly . . .very slowly,” says she.) This strikes me as apt right now because I'm in the process of a few reveals myself. One being, my face. Well, sure, I've most-of-the-time had my face out there for all to see, but for a lot of my life I've had a veil of long hair somewhat obscuring it. I'd always been a girl with bangs (see below for earliest example of that look), and then, except for a brief flirtation with an unfortunate flock-of-seagulls look (so, so very unfortunate, but it was the 80's, it's what the kids were doing), I became a rock chick (long hair with which to, er, whip around!?!*). I was also a bit of a hippie and had thoughts that I'd someday become one of those old ladies with the long gray braid down her back, which could still happen.

Anyway, this week I came out from behind the veil. I cut my hair so all I feel is it brushing the tops of my shoulders, instead of it rolling down my back. And my face is right out there with no bangs obscuring my eyes. It feels amazing! But I realize I had to be ready for it. This reveal comes along with my realization that I'd always equated the length of my hair with my ability to Peter-Pan myself into not growing up. well, guess what? i grew up anyway. And although I still often feel like i'm 15 years old, the amount of experiences I can call upon are varied and (mostly) excellent and all necessary (whether I remember them accurately or have embellished).

I've been working on letting myself be seen for quite awhile now. Not in the quick-fire, flash way I used to (see: hair-whipping, rock chick reference), but rather in the slow and brave reveal of emotions. Naturally I attribute the studio to this territorial shift, but really that's just the space I've created to try it out and express it through movement. Truth be told, I've been ready on the inside to see what would happen when I felt confident enough to give what I can, hold on to what I need and ask for what I want. It's a work in progress. But slowly, slowly, and well worth doing, I'm opening my eyes to the possibilities. And boy was I surprised when last week, upon opening them during class, I could actually see (amazingly, the first time in 3+ years in the studio that that's happened). There was nothing in the way. No sheet of hair falling between myself and the people watching me. No hiding what emotions were moving across my face, which I think varied from shock (there are people out there looking at me), to fear (there are people out there looking at me), to total happiness (geeky smile for the people out there looking at me while i stay with whatever moment i'm in). It also marks a sea-change in my relationship not only to self, but others. While i cared very much what my honey might think (in fact, happily he had a lot to do with me making the change, which was a polar opposite from relationships where i think the guy was mainly dating my hair), I also found that I didn't use reactions from others as a meter regarding how they felt about me. In fact, a lot of the time people I see every day have looked a little longer and then said things like "Are you wearing makeup?" The fact that about a foot of hair was removed from my head doesn't seem to really register. And this reminds me that I am often incredibly oblivious to what's around me as well. So, slowly slowly I realize that the view's so much better now. All I need to do is keep my eyes open.

(tho i appear to be smirking in this photo, it's only because i'm not actually sure how to take a picture of myself and smile at the same time)

(the beginning: bangs)

*Quick digression about that: when I was in the music biz, I was at a metal (the musical stylings of) convention in LA. The hotel posted signs in the lobby appealing the guests attending to please try not to clog the drains with hair...because there was so much of it in attendance. This, to me, seemed both comical and embarrassing.