Natural hair meet up

On Saturday, April 9, a small group of us natural hair folks met at the African American Resource library in the Historic Five Points Neighborhood. It was a gorgeous afternoon and these busy ladies could have been doing a heck of a lot of other things. This however was important to all of us.

After introducing ourselves we began our discussion with all things hair. We asked each other when and why we decided to go natural. We talked about attitudes of family, friends, coworkers and people on the street. We talked about our favorite You Tube hair videos, products and websites.

We talked about what it was like to be natural and free: free of nasty chemicals that smell and stain our clothes, free of trying to look “corporate” which is just another word for White. We even talked about the hair snobbery that still goes on among us naturals. True dreads vs. cultivated vs. freeform; maximum product vs. minimum product, etc. But it was all good. We agreed at the table that we all do what’s right for us.

Then the conversation relaxed into soap operas, Judge Judy and just about everything else. We had fun and laughed a lot.

Before we knew it almost three hours had flown by. The library was about to close and we had to get out of there. Just before we left I remembered my camera. What I forgot was that it had a timer. Next time I will remember and we can all get into the picture.

Darn. I also forgot to have us sing what I consider our theme song. “I Love My Hair.” Then again, I guess they would not have gone for that.

Since I don’t yet know who is who I will just post this picture of these energetic and dynamic women and will add names later.

Those of you in the Denver metro area, join us next time. We have yet to pick a new date but don’t miss it. If you’re signed up on Meet Up dot com you will get an invitation.

Had to share this

October rudeness

It’s that time of year again. It’s October; and I have to put up with every lame joke about my hair from every lame drunk or dumb-ass in creation.

Comments are usually something like, “Where did you buy that hat/wig?” One day I passed a woman who asked me if I was wearing a mop on my head.

Yesterday I was going to an art and poetry event with a friend. I was telling her about the stupid comments I endure, especially in October. She chuckled but I don’t think she really believed that people actually said those things.

On the way to the event she stopped to pick up another of her friends; someone I had never met. When the friend got in the car we greeted each other. Then she said, “I see you are all ready for Halloween.”

Our mutual friend informed her that this was my real hair. The friend said a few other stupid things that aren’t worth repeating.

Once the event was over and my friend and I were again alone in the car I turned to her and simply said, “I told you.” She had to admit that she would never have expected her otherwise intelligent and well mannered friend would be that stupid.

But as I said, I get this ignorance all the time.

I was telling another friend that although I usually laugh it off, I sometimes get annoyed at people. Her advice was to just cut it off. That, she said, would solve the problem. That’s as dumb as the goons who make the comments or ask the questions. Is everyone insane?

New Hats and Auto Timers

I just got back from my favorite place in the world, New Mexico.

Although I was going there for a convention my main mission was to purchase a new hat. I have always looked best in cowboy hats and got spoiled when I bought a nice one at an auction many years ago. It was custom made for me and even had my name in it in gold letters.

I had it for a few years until it mysteriously disappeared. I bought inexpensive substitutes and got compliments on them, but I needed to get myself another really nice hat.


I have come to realize that the only place I am going to get hats, clothes and accessories that suit me is in New Mexico. So when this convention came along I couldn’t pass it up.

Someone asked me to take a group picture and asked me if my camera had a timer. I had thought about finding out how to use the timer on my camera but it was always on the back burner. So after confessing that I did not know how to use the feature I made it a mission to learn how.

Once I found out how to use the timer I spent a Saturday after I got home running back and forth across my studio taking pictures of myself and my new hats and my ever growing locks.

It’s a learning process. The resulting photos were off center, too close, too far away, or out of focus. My head was cut off at times, as was half of my body. I had to play with the flash feature too.

Out of an afternoon of picture taking the picture you see is one of the very few survivors. Once I master the art of taking my own picture I promise I will show more pics of me, my hair and my new hats.

Celebrate Raw Hair

Here is something for all of you who love your natural hair. I call it my Raw Hair series.

As an artist, naturally I needed some artsy way to express my views on the topic of natural vs. permed hair.

I have been thinking of doing a series like this for a while. I played around with different styles and mediums to see what would look best. I realized that I had to stop thinking about it and just make some pieces. After I create them and post them I think of new ways to get my message across. So look for different messages or the same message presented in different ways.

I made them so they can be put on note cards and worn as T shirts.

So far there are just a few on my site, www.ArtWanted.com/zebracorn
As I make more I will let you know.

Thoughts on Dead Dreads

This is my hair, as you can see. As you can also see, it is not attached to my head any more. It is the proverbial bag of hair that some people are accused of being as dumb as.

Perhaps I have stressed over too many woes. I do have a tendency lately, to sweat the small stuff. Perhaps I have not taken care of it properly. Perhaps it is the normal order of things: to lose a few dreads once in a while.

Whatever the reason, here they lay, waiting for my loctition to re-attach them.

I have often wondered what the conversation would be like if I sent some of my hair into a forensics lab to have it evaluated. What if I was at a crime and left some of my hair. Would they be able to determine my sex, age and race? Would they take one look and say, “Elementary, my dear Watson,” or would they be left scratching their heads? If I sent in an entire dread it would probably be a sure giveaway. But if I sent just a few unlocked hairs…. What if I sent in a permed hair, or if I dyed it and then sent it in. What then? Would they ever guess it was a dyed permed hair from an albino Black female?

These are the serious world matters I contemplate. I’m not going to lose any hair over it.

longer and longer

I knew this day would come: the day when I would complain about my locks getting into my food or being too hot on my neck or pulling when I sat back against a chair. I knew the day would come when I would sigh about how heavy it gets when I wash it or how long it takes to dry. I knew I would complain about having to pull it out of my collar when I put on a shirt, and constantly move it out of the way as it continues to get longer and heavier.

I knew I would roll my eyes at people wanting to take a picture or touching it or asking me if it is real and a million other questions.

I knew these days would come. And I made this choice anyway. Because I am loving every minute of it.