Last evening she took me by surprise with a headful of blond. “Your hair! I exclaimed, to which she replied, “Yes, I’ve decided to go normal”. I was surprised at how oddly the word normal tasted and I said to her. "Honey, I’m 55 years old and I’ve never met anyone normal” and finished with “We are all trying to fit into some ideal that we’ve been conditioned to view as normal, I’d rather be interesting than normal”. She smiled.
On the drive home I thought about what normal really means. The collective unhappiness of today’s modern human is that we are chasing an ideal that is as unrealistic as finding green men on mars. What is normal? Who is this role model we are trying to fashion ourselves after?
Normal is perceived as being well balanced, conforming to a standard, the usual, and typical or doing what is expected. Most want to be normal and seen as such. But why do we all want to put on a skin that isn’t right for everyone, be painted with the same brush? Colour is my business and dyeing wool is no different than dyeing hair so I'll look forward to seeing what wild colour this interesting, artistic and adventurous individual will try on next. I must say, I really loved the electric "big blue".