I took out my grandmother’s hair yesterday.
From the basement, wrapped in two plastic grocery bags. There is was.
It was different than I remember. In my mind, her single eternal braid was bright white. The color gain from years and difficulties. It was ombre, from dark gray at the base where we cut if from her head at the nap of her neck, to almost blonde.
A blonde mixed with the most beautiful shade of warm gray.
A wonderful palette for drawings. The palette I have naturally chosen. Subconsciously aligning her body with my life.
When she died I set her hair. Short and white, it was a parting gift to her.
a tribute. 2011.