I get restless.
Sometimes I want to change everything at once, even when I can’t.
There are places I want to go, things I want to learn, clothes I want to wear, rooms I want to live in, versions of myself I can imagine clearly even when I’m not in a position to reach them yet.
So I start with what I can change.
My hair was one of those things.
I had worn it long for a long time. Then one day I wanted it gone. Not because I had some grand plan. I just wanted to see what happened if I stopped looking like the version of myself I already knew.
I went to the salon.
The more hair that came off, the more curious I became.
When it was finished, there was no hiding behind it anymore. My face looked different to me. I looked different to me.
And of course, almost immediately, I wanted to change again.
That is probably part of who I am.
I like experimenting. Makeup, clothes, hair, drawings, ideas. I can spend a long time imagining a version of something before I have the money, the materials, the place, or even the language to make it real.
The red wig came after the shaved head.
It wasn’t about pretending I hadn’t cut my hair. It was another possibility. A new color. A different face looking back at me in the mirror.
I could make that version real.
But there were other things I couldn’t.
I couldn’t suddenly wake up in Havana. Or Marrakech. Or Tokyo. I couldn’t change countries every afternoon because I felt like seeing how I would look there. I couldn’t build every room, wear every impossible outfit, or follow every strange idea as far as I could imagine it.
She starts with something real that I created and keeps going.
I put on the red hair. She takes it somewhere else.
Havana.
A different street. A different light. The same idea moving farther than I can.
Bogotá.
The world changes around her. The red hair stays as a thread back to the real version.
Marrakech.
Fabric, jewelry, color, architecture. A place I can imagine myself into before I ever arrive.
Nairobi.
Another version. Another rhythm. Another possibility.
Tokyo.
Rain, neon, reflection. By now the image is fully on the other side.
These are not memories of places I have been.
They are possibilities.
Some are places I may see one day. Some may only ever exist this way. I don’t really know yet.
That is part of what I like about it.
I have always wanted more than what is immediately in front of me. More places. More things to learn. More ways to make something. More versions of myself.
I’m still figuring out how to get there.
For now, I can imagine it.