Sown

We’re not really allowed to make that many changes outside of the script, nor would I want to. Better men than me write the script. But… I know what you mean and I think that maybe the seeds of what we’re going into now was sown when I had that initial discussion with Steven.
—  “Outside of the script have you made changes to the character just because you know he’s on that journey? Benedict Cumberbatch on stage at Sherlocked 2016 - (From notes taken during the talk, so there might be slight errors in wording)

Beyoncé’s 2015 Met Gala evening dress was made by Riccardo Tisci for Givenchy. The skin-colored illusion tulle featured all over embroidery with multicolor crystals and stones, and was worn with 7″ suede and leather skin-colored platform sandals.

According to Tisci’s team, the Met Gala dress took 2,000 hours to make. All crystals were sown on individually by hand on illusion tulle dyed specifically in Beyoncé’s skin complexion.

Photo Courtesy of Givenchy.

Visit www.beyonce.com for more from the 2015 Met Gala.

It’s 2005 and I am 7, and my mom does my hair up in little braids with bright beads and barrettes that match my clothes. My teachers complain that they’re distracting. My mother tries to reason with them that braids are just about the only to manage my hair. They don’t care. The seed is sown.

It’s 2006 and I start getting my hair pressed. My Sundays are spent with aloe vera leaves pressed to the burns on my neck. I start to hate rain and develop a fear of heat tools that lasts to this day.

It’s 2008 and all the girls at school brush each other’s hair. Becky asks if she can brush mine. I want to fit in so I tell her yes. I want to disappear when she runs away yelling to the class that I have grease in my hair.

It’s 2008 when I ask my mom why my hair isn’t like the other girls’. She tells me it’s just how I am, and that my black hair is nothing to be ashamed of. I want to tell her she’s wrong.

It’s 2009 and I sit on the floor in my living room crying as the chemicals burn my scalp but I don’t move until twenty minutes have passed. After its been flat ironed it’s silky and straight - but it’s not straight or silky enough, not white girl straight. I touch the chemical burns on my scalp and wish I had left the perm on longer.

It’s 2010 and I’m three weeks late on my perm. That awful, bushy new growth is starting to grow under my perfect straight hair. I hate it. I think it’s ugly and dirty and I wish it’d just go away. I remind my mom to grab the extra strength relaxer.

It’s 2011 and I’m going through my scene phase. I want nothing more than to tease my hair and put it into backcombed pigtails and clip dream catchers into it. But I can’t. It bushes out at the slightest hint of moisture and tangled in the bat of an eye. I hate my hair in both its natural and treated forms.

It’s 2013 and my hair can’t take anymore. It’s damaged beyond repair and I’m forced to cut all thirteen inches off. I’m left with the natural hair I’ve hated my whole life. I cry for weeks.

It’s 2013 and my first healthy curl has appeared. I think it looks pretty. For Christmas I wish for more.

It’s 2015 and I have a fro as big and round as the sun. My curls frame my face like laurels. I put on my hoop earrings and love how I look.

It’s 2015 and I feel the need to reinvent myself. I cut it all off again, from twelve inches to three. I cry for days.

It’s 2016 and my curls are more defined than ever. My natural hair is my glory. I style them into a flat top or a coiff or whatever I feel like. I consider growing them out again.

Your hair journey will not always be pretty. It will not always be healthy. You will not remember all of it fondly. But no matter how rough or how long, it will always be worth it.

She’s a dangerous woman, the kind that plays with fire and with such wildness in her heart. So many men who try to tame her always fail, for they never understood that the forest in her was sown from the start. In the moonlight alone her secret is revealed, she has the spirit of a wolf that belongs only to herself, to the earth and to the dark.
—  Half Woman, Half Wolf | Nikita Gill

Dan Webb
Seattle, WA

Break It Down
Daniel Webb’s project has been spotlighted on our #CCRadar and it’s taking place at Seattle Art Museum's Olympic Sculpture Park (seattleartmuseum). Logs will be carved until recognizable forms appear, and then disappear—the carving will continue until nothing is left but sawdust. Into that, the seeds will be sown. The resulting sprouts will be shown alongside photos documenting what was carved. ♻ How cool!

Check out more On Our Radar projects on our website.

apart

how the key to and somewhat of plush were sown
as the grass
dare to windows for such a mouse
will rise
before the same
delayed till qualified for all the gem
whereas i clap my small the shore
morn
had faced
futile the merchant buy
and when night descending
at her girdle