Waves Below An Ancient Castle

Getting a Haircut in Korea

In my younger years, my hair was regularly ruined by a barber named Cyril. Each time my dad would take me to Cyril’s barber shop, I’d explain in detail the stylish haircut I wished to sport. And each time, he’d turn the buzzer on and shave my head, freeing me from any potential fashionable status, or cool points I may have gained with my friends, and of course, the female species, which I’d began to notice at this point.

My childhood haircuts never really lived up to expectations. I once wanted tramlines, as they were known then. They were basically two lines shaved around your head – the finer the lines, and the closer they were, the cooler the kid. My dad decided he could do that for me, instead of paying someone else.

He tied a shoelace around my head and shaved around it. I would loved to have seen the blood drain from my face as I saw that first tramline. Not only was this the wobbliest straight line in history, the tramline on the left side of my head was about 1 inch higher than the right. I was too much in shock to be truly upset.

I denied him the chance of the second tramline. Instead of sporting two finely shaven lines in my hair, I had one fat, wobbly, uneven line for the next few weeks. I remained single for much of that year, if my memory serves me right.

At university I frequented a small, old, wooden-clad barbers near Hide Park. The barber was rotund. He used to rest his belly on my elbow so that he could get close enough to cut my hair. A middle-aged Chinese man would often visit selling fraudulent DVDs of the latest Hollywood blockbusters. In the colder months we’d be treated to a glass of whiskey, to warm the cockles.

Later, when the barber retired and his assistant took over the business, he told me that the rotund man was gay. I told him it wasn’t something that bothered me. He then asked ‘Did he ever rub his belly against your arm?’ I said yes, to which he replied ‘That wasn’t his belly!’ It took me a few minutes to get his meaning. But his prices were cheap and the haircuts he gave were almost not bad, so I didn’t mind.

My hair has always been just a brown thing on my head. In the last 10 years that brown stuff has slowly been disappearing. I’m far from bald but the signs are clearly there. I never know what to do with this brown stuff, so I don’t do anything.

With my Hong Kong trip just around the corner, I’m due to meet Julien (Aka Beboy) and his girlfriend Sabine. We’ve met in 3 different cities in the last year and half; Paris, Chicago and San Francisco. They’ve only ever seen me in full beard, bushy-hair mode. I promised them this time I’d make an effort to look like I belonged in a civilised society.

Part of that promise involved me going to a hair salon today. Note the world ‘salon’ rather than barber: I was out of my league. I’d heard a hairdresser there could speak English, so I was willing to pay extra. No hair in the world has ever seen as much loving treatment as the hair on the heads of the staff here.

One young gentlemen with long flowing locks came over, smiling, with a menu. A hair menu? I wondered. Nope, it was a complimentary drinks menu. I regretted the coffee I’d just had before coming here. Then a girl took my bag and disappeared around the corner. I trusted she was a member of staff and not just a very relaxed thief.

She returned with some type of Japanese kimono. I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I took note to buy one in the future because it made me look wise.

I sat down and she placed a collar around my neck, a second gown around me, and then stuck a visor to my forehead. The visor is exactly the type that golfers wear on sunny days – just this one wasn’t strapped to my head, it was taped onto my forehead and eyebrows. I believe it was there to protect my eyes from dangerous falling hair.

It was at this point when I began to wonder what had happened down the evolutionary line that this fluffy stuff on our head became so important that it now required me to be dressed like a middle-aged, ninja-golfer.

When trying to explain my choice of cut, the only thing I could think to say was ‘Just normal, please’. She showed me a picture of an ordinary looking guy, with an ordinary haircut, and I agreed.

She actually did an okay job, which is a huge compliment. I’m 100% sure that if she were to do my tramlines, they’d be the thinnest and finest in the land.

She then tore off some of my eyebrow as she peeled away the visor. I forgave her when she completed the treatment with a charming hair wash/ neck massage.

I’ve come a long way since Cyril’s place. Rather than having a haircut that I never asked for, I now have a haircut that I almost wanted…and that’s okay with me.

Today’s Photo – Waves Below An Ancient Castle

The biggest challenge about this image was that it was shot during a full moon. It was extremely bright, almost looking like a midday shot. I’d heard a rare Aurora sighting may take place here so I headed down. With the Aurora being a no-show, I shot the coastline instead.

In ACR, I lowered the exposure and increased the blue temperature. In Photoshop, I desaturated much of the image while increasing the blues a bit more.

I deepened the sky by selecting it through the quick selection tool. I brought down the midtones and shadows using a curves layer. The stars weren’t too bright so I layered in a few more from a different image. I lowered the highlights and midtones of the foreground to suit the sky, but protected the shadows from becoming under-exposed.

I then dodged the water in the foreground to add some movement and energy, while creating greater contrast between the rocks and water. I created a strong vignette to increase mood.

Before/After Comparison