I remember helping my grandmother dye her incredibly long thick hair a deep rich brown. It was like a long flowing river of dark chocolate, mysterious and wonderously soft to the touch. I envied her hair, although I would NEVER have the patience to grow mine so long. I cannot committ to one hair style and color for such an extended period of time.
I began dying my hair in high school. People ask me what about my "natural color" and I tell them that I haven't seen it in so long, I can't tell you what it might look like. I point to the roots, coming out deep on my scalp and answer, "it would be something like that, I suppose."
I've been orange, brown, deep brown, red, hot red, auburn, "midnight cherry" and black. Most recently, I bleached it out and became a radient "cotten candy pink". This weekend, I will turn it electric green for the masked ball that I attend each year (don't worry Mom, it washes out.) Someday, I acutally long to shave it all off, and just start over fresh.
Hair is a canvas for expression. It is the easist way to change the girl in the mirror when I need a fresh perspective. Hair can be loud or soft, bright or muted. It can scream for attention, or whisper like gentle velvet in the dark of the night. Hair is sensual and sexy, messy and fun. Style it, spike it, do what you wish (as long as you properly condition and care for it's health). Hair can help you become a master of disguise and a mistress of intrigue. It holds in heat, shields out the sun, gives us a fringe to hide behind on the days we don't feel like meeting someone's eyes. It's touch can be smooth like silk, or bouncy with crisp curls. It seems a source of endless possibilities and sensory experiences.