What's in the Hair or Sheep Shearing Day

We have been silent for some days but we are in Brussels all of us and there is little time left to write - too much work and too many friends to see in the evening. Of course, you know that Brussels is the new Babylon so who would write in Babylon.... Actually, what were the people doing in Babylon? I guess one can google by 'employment Babylon' or 'occupation structure Babylon'...

However, yesterday night my hands were itching to write a post so I meanly used the kids to fill in the idea gaps. A couple of weeks ago we were in Lazarevatz, Serbia - a famous centre of culture and arts and....hairdressing wizards.

As all the art museums were closed for some reason and as the Bolsoi Theater Ballet had just left town we decided to have our hairs done.

That's how kids used to look before the interference of the hair magicians. Boris is thinking 'Don't cut my hair. It is a symbol of my individuality'.

Boris, long hair

Andrej is shouting: 'Don't cut my hair, I am a lion and I will eat you if you do so'

Andrej - little wild lion

Lately, Boris has a favourite line: he goes to English speakers and he says all of a sudden 'I am a famous artist. Do you want my autograph?'. Have I taught him this? No, not at all. Yesterday, he had a problem as our friend Helene took out a piece of paper and handed it to him for an autograph.

Boris, a famous artist. Locally.

And here is a famous schmoozer and fly hunter. He is posing for the press together with his fly extermination equipment.

Andrej, the fly hunter

Well, every famous artist needs a haircut and that's how Boris looked after it. He is obviously posing for some local magazine.

Boris, short hair

Andrej's metamorphosis was bigger and actually he lost half of the size of his head after the haircut. After that he had a more favourable brain-to-head size ratio. He was not so daunting a lion any more.

Andrej, short hair

I don't know if you have a similar thing but for me haircuts are quite a ritualistic thing. Taking place on a relatively regular basis, they kind of measure the time of life, don't they? We look into the mirror for half an hour or so and no one can accuse us of vanity. I also contemplate the colour of my hair and I have followed its change from bright red to grayish passing through several other hues. It would have been a good life project to keep a bit of hair in a book every year. I have heard of stranger hobbies.

I am also loyal to my hairdressers as they provide some continuity to the ever changing landscape of our lives. During my childhood I used to visit the same Armenian hairdresser and sit on his wooden chair, then I used to go for many years to the same woman whom I still visit when back home.