So. The man will comb his hair without a mirror, working his open hand through it. The woman will make her reflection into a tower or treetop, whatever peak, where the lines of storm and the blue mark of the broody kingsfisher can be found. She'll know how to stem sweetly that flow from tenuous high tides, how to light the fires of remembrance without smoke. To comb the hair will be to take auguries for the rising day, give shape to the lover's secret thought, instruct from the blood the son not yet born.
When it comes to children, let the air comb them.
- Julio Cortázar, 'Historias de Cronopios y de Famas'
The parents of this boy are the lovely folks who invited me to share their New Year's Eve. He has
exactly the same tousled hair as his father, it's amusing to watch.
did you take the head shot of the dad as well?
ReplyDeletewould be cute to have the 2 heads...er...head to head. maybe a top shot?
who were those lovely folks? :)