Hair Out of Place

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I see a photograph of myself. In it I was on the bus travelling north to Tehran. We were going to visit friends, but that is not so important to the story. I was sitting alone because he was not talking to me. We were driving through the flat, dry landscape of my dreams, like the movies. I was wearing a maghnae, like a schoolgirl would wear, or a nun’s wimple. It’s tight around my face, but easier than wrestling with a headscarf that slides off my hair too easily. This particular day there was a stray hair sticking out, under my chin. I remember trying to locate it, unsuccessfully. It was troubling me. In the photograph I can see it, under my chin. That little hair sticking out reminds me of how I felt that day. Resigned. As much as I may have tried to tame the stray bits, one always found its way out of its cover.

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Love You Live: The Shaping of a City’s Musical Identity

What do The Cockroaches, Lou Reed, The Ramones, Marilyn Monroe, Charles Mingus, Jimmi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Bob Marley all have in common – aside from the fact that they are captivating performers and musical geniuses?  They have all graced the stage of a legendary Toronto concert venue.

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Geo-diverse, Hyper-local Expression

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