I seem to have a bit of a visual obsession with hair (see here, and here, and here, and here!). Here’s some more of it…
(you can also see a woman with wings who may or may not be a harpy, and that on the brown paper is an ink-and-watercolour sketch I did of a ceramic figure by the brilliant Linda Kieft. Go and look at her work. It is stunning.)
Here is even more more of it in other people’s work…
Above: Seesaw by Eveline Tarunadjaja. Below: hair, dogs and knitting, all at once, marvellous – from Julie Morstad. Below that: gorgeousness from Catherine Campbell.
While we’re on the subject, this poem by Cathy Song is beautiful too. This bit:-
My hair, freshly washed
like a measure of wealth,
like a bridal veil.
(my hair was waist length from the age of about 6 until I had it all hacked off 2 years ago. I loved the feeling of light-headedness, and how quickly it dried after impromptu river-swims on long walks, and it does look lovely short. But I’m growing it all out again, unbearably slowly. I miss the slippery rush of unpinning it at the end of the day, and the feeling of wealth that the poem talks about. Which is an odd feeling to get from a weight of dead tissue, isn’t it?)