Black, black, black is the color/ of my true love's hair. So goes the old English folk song. Ulysses's hair is slowly coming in curly and strawberry blond, or perhaps brown, but last night I dreamed he had a thick, glossy cap of black hair, like Nico Angenent-Mari when I saw him last night when we went to dinner at his family's house. But Ulysses's hair was shiny black instead of shiny copper like Nico's.

He looked so different, I thought as I regarded him. So grown, so ... formed. I had to focus consciously to see my baby boy in him, the face and expression I've come ...   more »