An unpolished example of Rutilated Quartz, see below for more info…
My hair is the absolute bane of my life. I hate it. It manages to be both curly and thick, yet flat and frizzy. I gave up colouring my hair a long time ago, hoping perhaps, that if I didn’t pollute it with chemicals, it would repay me by being luscious and well behaved, falling gently to my shoulders in perfect waves, a fringe swept elegantly across my forehead… to disguise the wrinkles… No such luck.
Instead, my hair frizzes and flicks outwards, weaving its way merrily around my head like some kind of hideous hairy carousel. I have neither the time, nor the patience or even a modicum of skill with which to style it, so I usually brush it fiercely, tie it as tight as I can in a hair elastic, slap a hair band on top and subdue any stray hairs with a battery of hair grips. Even then, I have weird short hairs that spring out like errant weeds.
This Clear Quartz cluster has its points sticking out like my hair… Known as the ‘Master Healer’, Quartz is helpful for absolutely any problem and can hold positive intentions and emit the energy outwards
I have tried every product available to try and coax it into some semblance of style, all with little result. One product made it greasy, one made it dry, one made it lifeless… I hate going to the hairdresser’s. I am envious of their skill, so I go about once a year when looking in the mirror just makes me want to cry. I don’t care for people messing about with my head (literally and metaphorically, so that includes opticians, dentists…) and I get bored after about ten minutes, so having to sit for hours while someone is fighting with my hair is torture…
Then I am perfectly happy. For about half an hour. My smooth locks lie against my head, framing my face charmingly and making me look ten years younger. The colour shines and I have the elegant fringe I yearn for. Then it rains. Or it’s windy. Or I run my hands through it in frustration. I get annoyed as my hands get stuck in the hairspray, my fringe gets caught in the hinge of my glasses, my cat jumps on my shoulder and messes up the back… I give in and get out the hair band.
Both my sons have inherited my hair. Both have the added curse of a double crown. My oldest son, as an ex-army cadet, favours the short back and sides, no nonsense approach, subduing its unruly thickness with the force of clippers, although his hairline is wreaking a slow revenge by slowly creeping upwards. My younger son still has faith in hair, life and products. He styles it carefully every morning, tailors his hair product to his style and visits the barber regularly. His hair waves, flicks, curls, is thick and unruly.
“It’s your fault!” he roars at me.
“At least you’ll never go bald.” I venture timidly.
This is a polished example of Rutilated Quartz, (or Angel Hair Quartz, or just plain Hairy Quartz as I call it) and is a very powerful healer. The golden ‘hair’ inside is actually titanium, and this variety of Quartz is said to just make life easier…!
I am actually trying to persuade him to take a course in hair cutting and styling, after weeks of reproachful looks and frantic tweaking with comb, scissors, matte gum, salt spray, hairspray, gel spray – the variety is bewildering and I haven’t even mentioned mousse!
Can you believe there is a musical called ‘Hair’? I was doubtful about the concept, considering my feelings about my own hair, but after I’d seen it, I could appreciate the value of hair as a symbolic rebellion. Perhaps I should just rebel against my pre-conceived idea of how I should look and just grow it longer and wilder… I could keep things in it, like spare pens, notebooks, a cat or two…
All photos were taken by my son!