One day, I wanted to become a hairdresser. I was in about the 3th grade. And I persuaded my mother to cut my long hair to my shoulders. Photo attached. It was my dad who convinced me to take a picture of the length so I could regret it later)))
After we took the photo, my mother and I went to her friend's. She worked as a hairdresser in the theater. We went in through the employee entrance. And I was immersed in the atmosphere of the backstage. I love this atmosphere. It reminds me of a treasure trove or a gin lamp. Incomprehensible and strange things on the shelves and along the walls, placed on the stage, create a plausible atmosphere of the story. The barber's office was also filled with many amazing items. Strange hats, wigs, moustaches, beards...
She was a simple but tasteful woman. Kind and caring. I really liked her craft. I left very inspired with the desired hairstyle. A few years later, I was probably in grade 8. And I chose a profession that I would like to unlearn. And my mother and I came to this office again. I was wondering where I should go to study to become a hairdresser. And she gave me an amazing answer that changed my understanding of getting an education.
She said that this craft can only be learned in practice. And no educational institution can give it. That it is best to finish short-term courses, and rather get a job. And you know, that's exactly what I did. But only five years after this meeting. I worked as a hairdresser for several months. And to this day, I cut my relatives ' hair. I really like this art.
Work as the personification of the perfect haircut. Watercolour, graphite pencil, stick.
Me and my hair that has never been cut.
Creation stages.