“Madness can be beautiful, and it can be disastrous. Madness can destroy, and it can create.
Two sides of the same coin.” – Autumn Dawn Leader
It’s 2015! Yeah, ugh…moving right along (lifegoesonandthatisthetragedy)…I’ve decided to start wearing makeup to bed.
I know, all the beauty advisor types advise to thoroughly cleanse before bed. However, that first sight of one’s face in the morning can set the tone for the whole day.
Now, at the best of times, I’m not a morning person. And, well, now, in my present mentally and physically ill condition, it isn’t the best of times. There’s nothing like waking up and not wanting to wake up and, then, the first thing one sees in the mirror makes one feel considerably worse.
Last night, I wore a small amount of makeup to bed (I’m not suggesting massive go out on the town face here, just enough to look less old and weary and just plain ugh in the morning). I woke up not wanting to wake up, but when actually forced to get out of bed by my bladder, I didn’t cringe away from the mirror; and, when I saw my reflection, it didn’t add to my malaise! In fact, I found that after a bit of wrestling with the cacophony in my head, I could get up, get dressed, wash my face, refresh my makeup and write this blog post. This, instead of not bothering with my appearance at all, slugging about in just a shirt and underwear all day, and getting weepier each time I passed a reflective surface…and definitely not writing this post.
So, this is why I have decided to wear makeup to bed. Because, it just might assist me in getting out of the bed in the morning.
In an interview when Adele was asked about her weight, she replied with:
“I don’t make music for eyes, I make music for ears.”
Amen, Sister. Exactamundo! That’s how I feel about it, too.
I am not here to look at, I am here to listen to.
Music is for listening to. The package it comes in shouldn’t matter in the least.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. However, appreciation of music is, thankfully, not only above, but also far beyond, the visual and the physical. Taste in music should never be influenced by personal taste in physical appearance. Music is spiritual in nature (at its core).
Close your eyes and, then, you will be able to see it.
“Well, Autumn”, you quip, “why then bother to make videos for your songs if you aren’t interested in engaging the visual?”
I never said that I wasn’t interested in engaging the visual: video can help to illustrate a song. But, I believe a good song (delivered by a good artist) doesn’t NEED a video to explain it. It should be able to tell its own story without the use of any pictures accept for the ones it inspires in the imagination of the listener. Video can be a good tool to help tell the story, but it shouldn’t be relied on soley to sell a song. And, it shouldn’t be used to show off the looks of the singer. If you just want to show off your politically correct body, become a model.
Music (and making music) is more important than the physical.
It is (so much) deeper.
So, good for Adele. What she said. Although, I would go just a bit further and say this:
I don’t make music for the eyes; I make music for the ears and for the heart.
This is why he is The Reason I Breathe. The way he sees me is astounding. And that he still sees me this way, even after all these years. He still sees beauty, he still celebrates that beauty which his heart has convinced his eyes they see. I’m so grateful for that heart, that sees and holds me with such love.
I used to write sonnets. Wow, that makes it sound like I’ve written quite a few, but the total is maybe between fifteen and twenty. I used to write a lot of poetry, using different styles. Some I’ve been told were quite good. My wife likes them, anyway, and this sonnet I’m going to share with you tonight is for and about her. My beautiful wife, Autumn.
You deserve a sonnet all of your own,
But can these mere words describe your wonder
Like golden leaves on autumn winds are blown
Through woods and groves – my heart tears asunder
At the thought of you without description.
The idea that you’ll pass through this world
Without a true, adequate depiction
That will allow your beauty to unfurl
Should not be granted either space nor time
To sow its vile seed and then reap the doubt
That would grow…
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First of all, I want to thank those of you who have started following my blog. I really appreciate you taking the time to read (and sometimes even comment) on what I take the time to write. I recently moved my blog from Posterous (which was more like PREPOSTEROUS) to the lovely WordPress here…and, well, it’s been a good move. And, I wanted to mention and say thanks to you who are coming along for the ride. If you have a moment, I’d be thrilled if you’d check out my music and, if you have the evil Facebook, if you’d “like” my Facebook Page I would be seriously delighted (encouraged, happy, my day would be made).
Anywho (enough of my gratuitous shameless plugging), today I want to talk about the ugly business of beauty. Don’t worry, I’m not going to lament about the media and sterotypes and all that stuff (which I, and others, have lamented long and loud on many occasion in various ways and sundry manners) but, rather, talk about some practical matters to do with the mop on my head known as… hair.
In my (too) many years on this sphere, I have worn my hair in a number of different styles. Some have been good, while some others have been not so fabulous (the 80’s have a lot to answer for). I think it was most popular, however, in the times when it was very, very long (but very very long and very very young always seem to go together…and I’m no longer even young, let alone very very). Every time I got a wild hair (pun intended, of course) and decided to cut it short I ALWAYS regretted it (with many tears) UNTIL my asymetrical cut. With it, I finally found a short cut that looked…well, good, actually.
Now, then…comes a couple of months ago and my husband says something to me that lets me know he’d really like me to grow my hair out again. I literally panicked. Growing hair out of a layered short cut is an ugly nightmare. It goes through what feels like ages and ages of stages (rhyme not intended but, oh well, free poem, no extra charge) of varying degrees of U.G.L.Y. (you ain’t got no alibi…other than you are growing out your hair, of course…). I thought, surely, growing hair out of an asymetrical would be an even worse case of dishevilled wreck until it would look anywhere close to decent again. However, I was saved from actual decision making by having no funds to go to the hairdresser to get my hair done. I steeled myself: I was going to have to embrace ugly.
However, I have some rather shocking news to share with you. Since deciding to (or being forced to decide due to necessity – when I say I am a starving artist, I mean it… food and clothes for the kids are more important…do you feel guilty yet for not checking out my album, singles, etc… what are you waiting for? Oops, sorry…gratitutous plugging – pathetic pity party – creeped in again…I do apologise profusely…moving right along), I have actually had more good hair days than bad ones. Oh sure, now, ugly has visited… but, so has creativity and ingenuity….and, I don’t just mean hats and headbands…although, those are good, too.
So, a little over a week ago, I donned a headband and thought… hmmm…ok, this works. But, then…ouch! I got a headache from the thing pinching the sides of my head. But, I suppose, it’s like the pain from wearing highheels, isn’t it? Beauty is a beast.
So, then we come to Friday night of last week… and I have a “suddenly moment”. I’m sitting on the sofa, and I run my fingers through my growing hair… and I essentially do what might be considered the female equivalent of “the comb over”. I flip my part to the other side!
I picked up my phone to see my reflection and thought, ‘Ooh, that’s not too bad’, and I snapped this little visual. When an ad break finally caused my husband to turn away from the TV to look at me, he exclaimed (with a certain look that I love in his eye), “Oh! Hello there!”
I smiled back… seductively, as is my wont to do when he looks at me that way, and responded, “So, you like it then?” To which, with conviction, he said, “Oh, yeah.”
And, I knew… I had it! The way to survive a bit more of the beastly growing hair out experience.
I wore my flipped-out-comb-over hair to church on Sunday and got a compliment off of someone who has exceptionally high beauty standards (his wife is gorgeous, and so is he for that matter) U’h, here I am sure I should put in a reminder that God does not look at the outer appeareance but, rather, at the heart… it was just really nice to get that surprise compliment from someone so sparing with praise of that sort.
I think this is the first time I have “flipped out” and had it be a positive thing.
So… do I recommend an asymetrical? Yes. By all means. It’s funky and cool. It’s also surprisingly not so horrendous to grow out of (when the time comes to do so…all good things, and all that).
Do I think beauty is hard work? Most of the time, yes; it can be painful and frustrating and down right demoralising. But (and I do love a big but, don’t you?), sometimes, just sometimes, the beast’s teeth are slightly less sharp than at other times, and we should celebrate and be thankful for those times (thus this post, which I hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing).
Oh, yeah, and last point: isn’t it good to know that not ALL “comb overs” are a bad thing?