braided
A Labor of Love
Photo Essay
There's something profoundly beautiful about the ritual of a mother doing her daughter's hair. I watched my grandmother comb my cousins' hair, I watched my mother do my sisters' hair, and now I watch my wife do our daughter's hair. It doesn't take long to realize that this ritual is a labor of love—the wear and tear on the mother's fingers, the backache from the forward lean, the frustration when the hair or the daughter doesn't cooperate quite as the mother wishes.
As a father, I step aside on hair day. The crying, the laughter, the shouting, the TV, the "owws" and "ouches," and the "if you sat still like I told you, that wouldn't happen"—it's hard to referee hair day as a father, so I don't try. But beneath all of this labor is the love, the connection, the bond, the shared experience—the results of the ritual.
Thinking about this, I realized what a fabulous idea it would be for a book. I did a quick storyboard but had other deadlines, so I decided to take some photos of both my daughter and wife on hair day and wash day. These photos are the rough draft of the book, which I will title Ritual or maybe Braided, I am not sure yet.
Adventure Awaits…
with love + imagination
-MR. TOMONOSHi!
Now that I have shared this I do feel that “Braided: A Labor of Love” is a better book title than “Ritual”, the reason why is because I love the symbolism of the braid, the twisting and turning, intertwining, the connection as well as the historical references for the braid. it’s spi(ritual).
As always, THANK YOU!
