What It Does to Your Face:
So, I've noticed a phenomenon among circus performers in which they stop aging when they dedicate themselves to the practice. All of my coaches have been in their mid 30's and in prime performing shape, and all of them have looked 22. Circus men tend to age to a ruggedly handsome 28 and stop there, many times in perspective as well as looks. I was looking forward to capitalizing on this promise of extended youth. But I think I must wear more makeup than they do.
At least twice a week, I begin the slow process of applying several layers of makeup, powder, paint, eyelash glue, and artificial gemstones over my face. I have gotten so used to the feeling of productivity and well being that accompanies being in stage makeup that without it I feel like I must of course be at home watching House MD and in a bathrobe. Am I going to end up like Granny in Memoirs of a Geisha, a lifetime of China clay making her yellow like a plucked chicken? Possibly. But I'll take my chances.
Last night Shaun came into my room brushing his teeth and froze when he saw me sitting in front of a mirror just sort of staring at my face. "What...are you doing?"
"Why are you staring at yourself?"
*slightly self-conscious now* "I don't know. I just don't see my face that often."
It was true. And this face looks every moment of it's 27+ years. And I feel proud of that. I need to counteract the large amounts of pictures of me online in glitzy stage-face with one 100% bare faced Max Cooper portrait, in natural light. Hopefully with a cigarette.