“If you keep pulling faces, the wind will change and you’ll be stuck like that forever.” Every morning when I paint my face on for the day, I look in the mirror and I wish that I had heeded the wisdom of my mother. I’m sure you’ve heard it at least once in your life, and you probably dismissed it, as I did, as merely one more ridiculous thing that parents tell their children to get them to behave. You know, like “If you swallow watermelon seeds you’ll grow a watermelon in your belly”, and countless other pearls of wisdom that spring from God knows where.
Eyebrows are supposed to frame your face. We fuss over them, groom them, shape them, tweeze and, heaven forbid, shave them, all in an attempt to keep the unruly buggers under control, and it’s all inevitably for naught. No matter how many times you break out the tweezers and make faces in the mirror in the quest for that perfect arch, within days nature undoes all your efforts and you are returned to that unkempt state from which we shrink in horror. I have another problem, and it’s directly related to pulling faces, hence the opening paragraph here. I am a Star Trek nerd. Stay with me here, this is going somewhere. I am not suggesting that all Trekkies, or Trekkers, depending on your particular bent, have horribly unruly and unkempt eyebrows. No. My eyebrow problem stems from my desire to be like Mr. Spock.
Growing up I was fascinated by Spock. I loved his analytical nature. I appreciated his logical approach to life and I related to his bafflement with regards to the behaviour of the humans who surrounded him. A bafflement so perfectly displayed by the iconic, cocked eyebrow. Here’s where my problem began. At some unknown point I began to emulate this expression. Nothing quite conveys my sarcastic questioning like that eyebrow, and I utilized it so well and so often that it developed a mind all of its own. I no longer have control over my eyebrow, and because of that, I will never be a successful poker player. It gives me away every time.
Since I’m horrible at poker anyway, this is not really of great consequence to me, but the fact that I have no control over part of my face is quite disturbing. I’ll be talking to someone and I’ll see it in their eyes. They’re looking at my eyebrow. It’s doing it again and I can do nothing to prevent it. “OOh, I wish I could make my eyebrow do that! How do you do it?” I don’t. It does it all by itself, and this makes it quite difficult to achieve that perfect symmetry when the tweezers come out. My eyebrow just will not conform. I’ve tried forcing it down. I’ve tried training the other one so that it will similarly raise up, thus achieving said desired symmetry, all to no avail. I am doomed to travel through the remainder of my days looking perpetually perturbed.
The moral of this story: Listen to your mother. She knows what she is talking about.
Frustrated photographer, sporadic creative artist and closet singer,
still searching for the perfect vehicle for expression.