Hair

It was the name of a musical, a "rock opera" they called it, in the late 60's. Me? I sure 'nuff got plenty of the stuff, more than a lot of guys half my age, and I turn 65 on the ninth of November, this Friday! Like Dawn told me a few months back: "If you've still got it FLAUNT it!" This photo was shot maybe a month ago, before I got tired of having Claudia tell me that I looked like a "homeless street person", followed by Vivette giving me a great haircut.

I suspect, though, that growing profuse amounts of thick curly hair at my age saps energy from other things, like my brain cells. The white painted ceiling and rafters look familiar, and I remember being intrigued with the scalloped edge at the top of the bookcase. Of course I can't remember where this was, why I was there, or who that guy is.

I really should start taking notes. I always did when I was shooting a story, but back then I would have also shot several rolls of this situation Instead, as I've grown more adept at composing pictures from a viewpoint different than what the camera is seeing, shooting that 15mm lens one handed, and the film expense comes out of my own pocket, I've gradually gone from shooting six 0r eight shots of a situation to an average of two or maybe three, resulting in four to six situations on a roll. Yup I should be taking notes!