I saw this in the back room of a cafe I regularly work at. I can't know for sure what the artist was thinking, but the multicolored squigglies seem to be curls weaving all over a soul sistah's head. Succinctly, she declares, "Sanity."Despite some definite widening of standards in mainstream/corporate America for "respectable" ways to wear black hair, I nonetheless contend the afro ever retains a certain potential as a statement, a statement for all sundry of views, positions, orientations. Not one necessarily emanating from the wearer, but still so deemed by many an observer. Many black folks circulating in the mainstream/corporate world will be disinclined to wear the fro in such settings, lest this act be deemed a statement they, decidedly, were not making. You know, we think, "What if such and such -- my boss, my client, the judge, the buyer, etc. -- gets the wrong message?" Hence a lifelong relationship with second-guessing and angst. Sure, some naturally prefer a perm, (pun intended)* but a certain degree of censorship in all cases cannot be denied. So, the afro is avoided.
In this sistah I see someone who chooses to do as she wishes despite, I am sure, her awareness of the potential ramifications. Rather than try to sort them out, game theory like, she lets the chips -- I mean curls -- fall where they may. Leave it for someone else to surmise a statement, she thinks. Her hair, and hence, her being too, will speak for itself. That is, I believe, pure sanity.
*An aside on puns: once you recognize a pun, and decide to keep it, I don't think you can honestly write, "no pun intended." Better to just do the "see no evil" act or own up to your punning ways.
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