THE DEPARTURE 09.17.2013
The beautician tightly and skillfully moves a smooth, thin thread over my brow ridge giving form to a distinctive and charismatic shape. The act is distressing and admittedly self-inflicted. Basic upkeep is always eventually ignored, leaving my brows free to flourish copiously. As a result, I do this often but this time, the process is unusually excruciating. I am too restless, too eager, and too impatient. The journey is sitting there, hands on lap, legs feverishly tapping, waiting for the wheels to move in harmonious motion, for the blurred lines between plan and fruition, between dream and reality to come together in a tidal wave of design.