Archives for posts with tag: beauty



Okay, “tear out your hair” is a bit harsh. How about “let loose your hair”? Being a veteran of the chemo process, this being my second go round, I was familiar with the hair loss part of the show. I like this part. Really. I find it fascinating that your hair begins to come out of your head just by running your fingers through it. Bigger handfuls, bigger payoff. The last time I was obsessed with the process and left it out in my garden for birds and squirrels to make nests with. I loved this process of release, of re-purposing. Shedding your past.

It took till the third treatment round for the hair to begin to go. About three days in, you can actually gently pull small handfuls out. It is deeply satisfying, like peeling a perfect sheet of sunburned skin. I am allowing you to peer entirely too deep into my psyche….

After a few days of pulling and combing and shedding, I went to my hairfresser and had my head shaved. I kept a bag of hair and a dear friend of mine put it into an encaustic art piece that hangs in my living room. (See my blog, “ I am not like I was before”


So, as I geared up to fo through this second round, I was secretly thrilled to go through the hair release again. I wanted to have that experience first and then shave my head. I didn’t want to skip any of the parts, and, well, I like it. It appeals to my delight in the sensory. I scare my friends.

On the day of my third treatment it was the full moon and my hair had just begun to release its hold on my scalp the day before. Of course I played with it all day. Observing the color, the texture. The shine of the silver and grey strands, the auburn/brunettey blondness of the bulk of it. Later that night I was getting ready to go to bed, but realized I had not yet seen the full moon and thought I would wait to see it rise.


It was a perfectly still and warm night, right before we got the 30 degree plummet two days later. I walked outside in my bare feet, padding down the block, watching her slow ascent between the roof lines of the houses and the leafy trees. Breathing deeply of the late spring to summer air. Breathing in the transition fullness. Making my way back to my yard I stood in the grass, feeling the pulse of the earth underneath me and stood still as the moon rose into view. You could almost hear it move through the night sky. As I stood there in the moonlight, all of my witchy DNA snapped to attention and I did the most obvious normal thing. I began to walk the perimeter of my house and mark every tree and shrub with strands of my hair. Combing my hands through, taking a small handful and the gentle tug and release as the hair came out. I draped it over the tree branches, tucked it into the bushes, sprinkled it on the ground and in the flower beds. “This is my home. This is my place of healing and rebirth. I willingly relinquish this way of being for something new, clear and expansive. I say “yes” to the unknown.” All the way around the house I walked, talking quietly to myself leaving a trail behind me. Gifts of me to the night.


I felt shifted that night. Ready for the next phase. Two days later, before I could look like a Barbie doll who had her hair done by someones sadistic little brother, I went in and shaved my head. The sense of lightness. I felt the last 6 years of my life with all of the over extension, emotional exhaustion, relationship turmoil and not feeling quite right in my body, slide off of me in a pool at my feet. Yes, I have it in a bag in my room and it shall be released into the wild. Duh.


In many mystical traditions hair is thought to be a source of a persons power and strength. The longer the hair the greater the power. It is an antennae towards the heavens, connection to the ancestors, and a testament to your past. There is a certain duality in that idea (always intriguing) both the cumulative wisdom and foundation that we develop during our lives that we carry with us, as well as the weight, trauma and habitual patterns we drag around with us, that are stored in our cellular body, that are stored in our tissue, our hair.


As the hair fell to floor I felt the heaviness fall away. Saw my self emerge, my light brighter, even more hi-def (as if that is possible, apparently it is) Although I love my long hair and I do derive a sense of power, my femininity and my sexuality from that expression, shaving my head holds all of the same intensity but from a different perspective. The power of not being stuck in your past, not dragging everything forward, but shrugging off a heavy cloak and stepping out naked into the world on a fresh path. Your past has helped inform who you and will forever be an integral part of your makeup, and now, you can move forward making different inspired choices, not patterned responses. The antennae is turned inward to listen, not outward be told.


What if my DNA are being rewired through the chemo and I am being enhanced, upgraded for an entirely new chapter of my life? “I am not like I was before”, and why would I want to be the same person I was six years ago, or 10, or 20 or 30 or…..? I am being challenged to shift, to adapt, to see what’s next. When I am complete with my treatment, I will not go back to how things were before. It will be even better, and my life was pretty great before. I don’t know what that is, but it will be fresh and expansive and I am ready to start anew with my sleek aerodynamic self.


ImageTulips are without a doubt my favorite flower, and I love all flowers. My birthday is in April so I feel an extra affinity for this jewel that blooms during this month. Just wanted to share some luscious pictures..ImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImage

I have been quite taken as of late with images of flower x-rays. Last year my friend Heather, made an incredible encaustic piece for me commemorating my metamorphosis thru the cancer dance. She chose some x-ray images of flowers as a nod to the array of tests I underwent. I loved seeing the delicate “bones” of the flowers. The inner architecture, the scaffolding that supports from the inside. Remembering how fragile and beautiful and delicate this life is. Enjoy.



I realize it has been awhile since I have written, (I miss it, but other pulls as of late) I am writing one for Valentine’s Day, but in the interim wanted to share some glorious horse images I have found. As we just moved into the Year Of The Horse ala Chinese New Year, I went searching for images. I resonate with Horse immensely. Independence, wild spirit, nature, travel, movement, separate yet connection to the herd.  I have had horses in my life, still ride when I can, albeit infrequently, still nothing matches being able to commune with that kind of power and energy. I swear that February 1st, I felt that I was shot out of the starting gate, mane and reigns and in hand and picking up speed each day. Finding very clear intention as I fly to see what lies over the next hill, surrounded with love…..hope you enjoy these. 







“hand me a washcloth please, i need to comb my hair…”


my mother told me that my grandfather used to say this. a man i never remember with hair on his head, not even in ancient curled black and white photos of when he and my grandmother were first married. he was a funny, rascally kind of guy and i know he would have been utterly amused with my newly shorn self.

so i was shorn on halloween, which makes me smile. every hair dresser in the salon had a wig on that day for the holiday and o’dell, my hairdresser extraordinaire, tried to convince me it was in my honor. which made me smile. my hair had just started to go on sunday, shimmering comb fulls of  my hair. monday it was filling a brush and on tuesday i could pull out long hand fulls, like pulling cotton candy.

there was nothing traumatic about it at all. it was fascinating to me. it did not hurt, it was just shedding. i was like a malamute in july. it became almost impossible to leave it alone. like peeling a sunburn or messing with a loose tooth.  i had started taking all of it out to the garden for the birds to make nests with. on wednesday morning i took an enormous hairball out to the garden and made an autumnal still life with it and the last of the tomatoes, coleus and  fallen leaves. like a tiny cousin it. an offering of my former self to the earth and the sky. i saved a hand full for a keepsake and what was left on the salon floor was just, swept away.


i had a dear friend come with me to film the event and it was all so festive.  i have spend most of my life with short hair, so i had no fear of short hair, but shaved…that was new. these long beautiful tresses i had were grown during the last 4 years. i loved my long hair, but i also loved the extremeness of shaving it all off.

o’dell has worked with an organization called “look good, feel better” for the last 20 plus years, that fits women going through chemo with wigs. he said that many women who had sat in his chair said that they loved pulling out their own hair. he also spoke of the power of not doing it behind closed doors, but out in the open. i could feel everyone’s eyes on me, full of surprise, love and support. one woman in particular did not take her eyes off of me and came over and asked how many chemos i had had. she was a 12 year survivor and was so strong, healthy, powerful  and positive looking. it takes a village…

i also have a sexy new wig. long, reddish hair, a bit longer than my original hair. he fit me for that, and it looks great, very natural. but, i love my shaved look better. the wig will be a fun change of pace, but not the day to day image i had imagined. so interesting. don’t want to cover anything up.

i love my new head. sleek, sexy, and a heightened sense to touch… and cold. gathering a wardrobe of soft beanies for the great winter outdoors.

i feel strong, feminine, and incredibly powerful and empowered. there is no loss in this. it is pure transformation and again i am so curious to see what is next, and yet savoring the right now. i don’t want to miss anything… even though i might like to skip my next chemo which is this tuesday, i am willing to be here for every step of this healing. every step is crucial…