My Helen Hamilton

May 31, 2012

I was on a jumbo jet, having very nearly missed my flight back to the States.  My husband and I had just done a mad-dash through Heathrow Airport (I was in heeled boots, no less) and we were the last two people to board.  Sweating, panting, and grimacing at the chorus of consumptive coughs all around me, I looked a few rows over and saw this face staring at me from the back of a magazine.

I nudged my husband, pointed to the full page ad and said, "Helen."  He agreed.  But something about it bothered me, even though I knew it was right.  She was wearing too much make up and her hair was done and, well, she was too fierce.  She was GODDESS Helen, not STARCROSSED Helen.  So I looked up the model, and I found this shot of her with no makeup on and her hair undone.

And I though, "yeah".  She's wary, even hiding something.  She does just about everything she can to downplay her looks and fit in a little better.  She's even hunching her shoulders a bit to hide how tall she is.  This is Helen when she is still unsure of herself, and this is the Helen that I originally imagined.  Shy.  Guarded.  The "fierce" part comes later, from a lot of suffering and fighting.

Just like it does for the rest of us.  :)


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