To know my lover is to know fire. Spunky and strong, he has been around the world, touring in battle, amassing culture and friendships galore. The face he presents to the world is strength, assertiveness, valor, charm, and complete sense of direction. Along with all the souvenirs he has picked up in his extensive life experience, he couldn't help but find himself with his own private collection of turmoil. We have known each other for a couple of years now, and the subtle act of disclosure has become an art form to us both. Often messy and always uncomfortable, but so very necessary to our vitality, our intimate wealth.
Sitting in my kitchen, so nervous I was shaking, I decided to shave my head. I remember all the weeks I had paced about within the confines of my mind, rolling the idea around like marbles, popping the 'yes' and 'no' in and out of the realm of possibility. Around this time, I had suffered a tremendous breakup, and in my acts of stress, I resorted to my cyclical shaving and dyeing and re-dyeing and growing... and found myself with about two inches of growth, and pastel pink locks.