SALON MARJORIE "Take it off!" I tell Marjorie with a wave of my hand, knowing the haircut will change more than my reflection. My life needs the purity of her shears, her brush -- her arm an extension of her art. Marjorie has a sense of each woman's singular beauty underneath the ragged ends of distraction and neglect. She knows the meaning of frame. Women leave her shop with softer faces, their hair a highlight of their hearts. "Hair grows about a half-inch a month, six inches a year," she says and snips. A wet hank falls to the floor. "So we're cutting off what was going on four years ago." I think back. The floor is criss-crossed with what's left of a dying lover, a baby gone, a bitter quarrel with a friend. That year my parents sold our childhood house. My sister and my brother and I laughed and cried sorting out the attic. Doll cribs and school reports on squirrels. "To the dump" and "To be sold." Still thinking of that frazzled time, I watch Marjorie cut the last bit loose. A strand of grey. Her blow-dryer breathes and everything says "lift." The mirror is my friend again, and I lighten up to see the weight of loss no longer on my shoulders.   (from THE Magazine, Santa Fe's monthly magazine of the arts) CHRISTINE HEMP recently witnessed one of her poems launched into space on a NASA rocket sent to record the pre-natal activity of stars. She has taught poetry and writing to Taos Pueblo, Los Alamos National Laboratory, National Park rangers, university students, molybdenum mine workers, and visual artists. Marjorie Olsen is her hairdresser.   home · resume · recent publications · schedule · technical writing · course offerings list of clients · connecting chord · programs ·  poetry pages · bardic performances · contact Christine Hemp P.O. Box 674 Port Townsend, WA 98368 tel: 360-385-9005