Artists Thoughts: HAIR.

Entitled "Imagination Affirmations.

The painted hair is textured and the fairy is crowning the little child with an crown.

I wish that I had had that fairy.

I didn't grow to love or even know how to take care of my natural hair until I was well into adulthood.

Like many black women, I didn't even really know what it looked like.

Growing up, the only thing I "knew" was that it was nappy, it was coarse, and that it needed to tamed and whipped into submission.

A relaxer was a Godsend for my busy, working mother...and for me that meant my hair would be straight. Straight like the white girls I went to school with, straight like most of the celebrities I saw on TV that looked like me. It was like a rights of passage into preteen-dom, adulthood and assimilation.

But my hair was never really healthy. It only grew to my shoulders...never further without great breakage and my new growth- my ACTUAL hair was seen as a nuisance that had to be "relaxed" to match the rest of the chemically treated tresses.

I hate that I ever thought that it needed to be RELAXED. I hate that word: relax. When someone tells you to relax ever...what are you ever only inclined to do? The opposite.

I love that my hair grows up and out instead of down.

My hair defies gravity, bih.

It laughs at the strongest of edge controls. 20 minutes later my baby hair rises and be like.... "and you thought...What?? We out here today."

But I like to think...well...they (the baby hairs) get