a walk through Salem

There is a moment when you catch the view of life out of someone else's eyes.  Today I looked into the mirror and saw my sister looking back.  It wasn't anything spiritual or magical that brought her to me it was an equation of genetics + heavy eye make up + unruly hair = Wendi 

 I suppose as her little sister it shouldn't surprise me how much we look alike, her in the past tense and me in the present, only it does. Sometimes I see my brother-in-law staring at me his head cocked sideways and I have to wonder what he is thinking.  

  

The hard part is knowing this is nothing more than costume make-up, a practice run for a party.  Just making sure I still know how.  For me this is for better or worse my 40 year old face.  For her dark lines, heavy mascara, and weathered skin were part of her prison and she never saw an age as old as 40.  She died at 36, I think... 

She lived and died on the edge of Never Never Land.

Not as Wendi Bird but as Peter Pan.

And I remember she is the reason I don't like to wear make-up.