Why I Chose The Road Less Traveled

a kitten with a Charlie Chaplin mustache

graffiti

monkeys on the beach

a temple in Krabi

a box of haircolor

Kho Phagnan

Kho Phi Phi


who you callin fair skinned?

Fourteen years ago, this very month I started cosmetology school and working in a salon, beginning the journey of my craft of sculpting, coloring and manipulating hair to my will. Fourteen years of remembering how clients like their coffee, remembering where their part is, remembering the details of their domestics and careers and accommodating them for events. At night when I dreamt, color swatches, rollers and extensions danced in my head. While all of my friends had weekends and summers off, I was working ten hour days but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Each year I made significantly more money than the previous and constantly took workshops to improve my skills. I was a homeowner at twenty two, took frequent short holidays to the Caribbean and the U.S., got manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, went to a chiropractor once a week(why not?), did yoga and pilates. I was living it up like J-Lo. My daily beauty regiment consisted of combinations of the following but not limited to: hand lotion, foot cream, body lotion, face cleanser, exfoliator, spf, eye cream, night cream, cuticle oil, sea salt scrub for body, mud mask, daily shampoo, clarifying shampoo, conditioner, mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, lip gloss, blush, and don't get me started with hair product and waxing and tweezing. If it sounds complicated that's because it is, but since moving to New York my perspective on beauty has done a three sixty. My life was good in the suburbs, I had a lot of friends for the first time in my life, made great money, had a sweet place and traveled a fair amount. Naturally, being ambitious, I starved to progress to the next step, which would be New York. It was always the ultimate goal. I gave up my car, rented out my home(that situation crashed and burned), rid of most of my things and devoted my world to the beauty industry, which I found out soon enough, there is nothing pretty about. I let everything go to shit including my relationship, my home-my sanctuary that I ended up selling for a fraction of it's worth and more importantly myself and put my job at the salon on a pedestal above all else. It's difficult for me to express these events in words but Herman Hesse couldn't have said it any more perfect than this in a page of Siddartha:
Instructed by the eldest of the Samanas, Siddhartha practiced the eradication of ego, practiced samadhi according to new Samana rules. A heron flew over the bamboo forest—and Siddhartha received the heron into his soul, flew over forests and mountains, was heron, ate fish, felt the pangs of heron hunger, spoke in heron squawks, died heron death. A dead jackal lay on the sandy bank, and Siddhartha’s soul slipped into the corpse, was dead jackal, lay on the beach, grew bloated, stank, decayed, was torn apart by hyenas and flayed by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, blew into the fields. And Siddhartha’s soul returned, it had died, had decayed, become dust, it had tasted the bleak euphoria of the cyclical journey, and then, freshly thirsty, it waited crouching like a hunter for the gap in the cycle where escape was possible, where the end of causality began, an eternity free of sorrow. He killed off his senses, he killed off his memory, he slipped from his Self to enter a thousand new shapes, was animal, was cadaver, was stone, was wood, was water, and each time he awakened he found himself once more, the sun would be shining, or else the moon, and he was once more a Self oscillating in the cycle, he felt thirst, overcame the thirst, felt new thirst.
I died many deaths during my career in New York, my passion began to wane. It was my own fault for ignoring my inner voice that was constantly telling me it was not the right place for me. I just kept running my life on empty promises and optical delusions, yes delusions, hitting the snooze button until it was finally time to wake up. My biggest fantasy became to work in a factory stamping boxes that went by on a conveyor belt where I could make money by the hour and deal with as least people as possible where no one cares what you look like. I knew I needed to act fast and make a change before I died the Heron's death for the final time and never again felt new thirst.
Yes, I did learn a lot, worked many shows for fashion week, had so many incredible experiences and met wonderful talented people but it did not come with out a heavy price.(Epiphany#122 There are NO FREE RIDES!The bill is always going to come, just make sure you get your moneys worth. I'm not being negative, it's just nature doing it's dirty work) The fashion week shows are bullocks. Not all of them, some have been really amazing but the majority are unpaid and stressful. It depends who you are working with really. I have had some incredible experiences that I wouldn't trade for anything. Most situations, the hairdressers all gather around a very pale, moody Eastern European model with her bones exposed like they are on a secret mission with the CIA to save the world just to do a simple pony tail. It was a very short lived high to get these gigs doing shows and photoshoots where it's certainly not about the work but more about standing around with bangs in your eyes, with a cool scarf around your neck sipping coffee and discussing only and all things fabulous about in New York, London and Paris. Okay, I am exaggerating a bit and I am certainly not knocking the people who are passionate about the industry. There are many brilliant artists but there are also many who are not in it for the love of the craft of hairdressing but the making love to their ego. Personally, most of this work left me feeling unfulfilled. I worked long hours and many of my days off, struggled constantly to be in the "in" crowd-which I failed at miserably and had a tumultuous relationship with my boss. Who would have thought doing hair in the suburbs would have brought more money and happiness? In the small pond I never felt like just a number and doing common folks hair there was definitely a sense that I was playing a vital role in society. Doing blowdries for demanding PR clients who are getting donation services, not so much. This was all inevitable(epiphany#137 Nothing can keep moving up and moving forward, it would turn into a monster or explode, it is essential that things must expand laterally at some point for internal growth)
My life long goal-achieved? Did I peak at twenty five? Is this how it ends????? My life felt pointless so I decided I needed a sabbatical from hair, so on impulse I signed up for culinary school before my spirit was completely broken. Doing something so insignificant inspired me to do incredible things, things that had purpose so I took the remainder of my savings to travel. This is not the official declaration of the death of my hairdressing career. I'm going to come back to it in the future on my own terms, doing the shows I want to do, making people look fabulous while doing good things for the world, operating on a personal level rather than factory style. The stars are aligning as we speak.
Beauty to me now is making new friends, the stillness on the surface of a lake, laughing with my comrades, a deep slumber, the kindness of strangers, the purring of my sweet Juneaux, and creating art. It isn't all the products I thought I needed, doing services on "models" trying to get a free ride and it certainly isn't blow drying the fabulous fifty seventh street housewives.
The past few weeks, I've been exploring the islands in the south of Thailand. Kho Phagnan, Krabi, Kho Phi Phi(where the movie "The Beach" was filmed) and Phuket. One particularly hot day, I was talking to a woman while swimming in the ocean who coincidentally was a yoga teacher, which is exactly what my body and soul was yearning for. Her name is Daralee and she came to Thailand for her teacher training and never left. She mentioned needing a haircut and I told her she was in luck because I am traveling with scissors and we ended up exchanging services. This resulted in two full days of clients. I gave meditative haircuts where instead of looking at your reflection in a mirror, you look out onto the ripples and waves of the ocean and the horizon with your feet in the sand. The cutting cape was replaced by a sarong. I was sort of a big deal. Can I tell you it was the best job I ever had in my career?
In the past few weeks I've met so many great people, snorkeled, partied in the jungle until the sun came up, beach and pool by day followed by spicy delicious food by night. Even in paradise I have had my fair share of obstacles, but now adays I'm taking it with a grain of curry.


this tune inspired me to move on and do something with meaning during this so very short time on earth.......