Just His.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning crabby and silent. I make the motions of getting ready - clothes and teeth brushing and book gathering - and then go stand in front of the mirror for the daily inspection: putting on my makeup. 


I linger over eyeshadows and blushes, whisk the bronzer over my face and scrunch my eyes tight as the bristles brush by. I paint my eyelids with what I hope is not too much blue, and I poke at my lower lids with soft black liner. I survey the result like a prospector after gold - pretty enough for today? Studious enough? Achieving enough? 


I am twenty. Sometimes my face is a stranger to me. 

The curves of my nose and mouth retraced over and over in the reflection of the harsh winter sun glancing off the snow. I am twenty and when I put on my makeup I am ten again, playing grown up dress up for the parade of people in my day....


I'm blogging on over at The Gypsy Mama today. Won't you join me? Click on over here. 


Love, 
Hilary


PS. And Mandie? Still can't say thank you enough for those exquisite pictures. I'm so thankful.