(I’m sorry, Marilyn)

Eve Arnold 1960's

It just rained. Water is dripping from the roof into the small pool outside. Each drip makes a ripple in the pool that expands out bigger and bigger until it disappears. I am reminded of how a twenty year old boy killed twenty children last Friday. Like the pool, we are absorbing that impact. We are changed.

What does this country need? I find myself asking this question and wondering what I am adding to the pool with this project.

I have wanted to do this project for a long time. Recently two people have used the word “madness” on hearing what I am up to. I think the responses upgraded from “interesting” to “madness” when I made the first step towards physical transformation.

The physical transformation began about four weeks ago with a big blond streak in the front of my hair. I spent 5 hours at the salon with Rachelle, hair and make-up artist, who will be assisting me in transformation. At first, the blond streak was nifty.

Over the last two weeks a creeping feeling as I look in the mirror. I don’t want to be Marilyn anymore. (I’m sorry, Marilyn) I want to be old broken-hearted brown/grey haired me. In the mirror I see someone confused, part blond part brown, stuck in some in between state. I look at my body and know this body will not be able to be her body.

Today is the end-of-the-world day (12-21-12) and yesterday was my birthday. This was the first birthday that I have not heard my father’s voice saying Happy Birthday to me over the phone as he died in October this year. In Newtown, I’m sure there are a lot of firsts happening too. We are at the beginning of a whole new cycle.

I don’t want to give up on you, Marilyn. Sometimes, I like to bail out when things become less nifty. Maybe you did too. But I am going to stay here, because maybe there is something to be learned, even if it is just learning to stay with the in-between, the unknown and the no-longer-nifty.

There is some hope and truth for me in your form. I want to stand in your shoes for one moment in time and see what happens.

See my blond streak? Here we go…

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4 thoughts on “(I’m sorry, Marilyn)

  1. Very cool blond streak. Selfishly I hope you continue with the Marilyn project, as I enjoy reading and seeing your posts. This is my first Christmas without my dad, too. It feels pretty strange.

  2. They say courage is not not being afraid, it is walking thru the fire even with your fear. you are proving that.
    Beautiful photo. here u go!

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