Hair. Women are defined by it. It's our part of our performance. We wear it long, short, feathered. We color it, curl it. If it looks good, we feel good. If it looks bad, we feel bad. Sometimes we wear a hat, pull it back in a pony, tie on a scarf. We want our lovers to run their fingers through it. We want it to be luxurious, thick. It is our crowning glory. Nothing else is as important. Not even our breasts. When we think of Cleopatra we think long dark hair, when we think of Theda Bara we think short dark hair, when we think of Marilyn Monroe we think of platinum hair, when we think of the Virgin Mary she has long hair. All of our feminine icons are identified by their hair. Women spend millions of dollars. I am one of them. My mother taught me to spend my money on my hair and my shoes--- words to live by. She said, "Even if you're wearing a pair of blue jeans and T-shirt from K-Mart, you'll still look good." I'm listening mom. This is a painting of my hair. Isn't it great?
This painting is by Marc Travanti from his series entitled, naturally, "Hair."
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