Eye makeup tips for older women. Bridal make up and hair
Eye Makeup Tips For Older Women
- "Older Women" is a 1981 single written by Jamie O'Hara and recorded by Ronnie McDowell. "Older Women" would be Ronnie McDowell's eleventh country hit and the first of two number one songs on the country chart.
- (Older woman) Could be the dreamer’s mother; her feelings about ageing; her sense of inherited wisdom.
- (The Older Woman) These over-forty females come in two varieties: with and without kids.
- The combination of qualities that form a person's temperament
- an event that is substituted for a previously cancelled event; "he missed the test and had to take a makeup"; "the two teams played a makeup one week later"
- Cosmetics such as lipstick or powder applied to the face, used to enhance or alter the appearance
- The composition or constitution of something
- constitution: the way in which someone or something is composed
- cosmetics applied to the face to improve or change your appearance
- Predict as likely to win or achieve something
- (tip) the extreme end of something; especially something pointed
- (tip) gratuity: a relatively small amount of money given for services rendered (as by a waiter)
- Give (someone) a sum of money as a way of rewarding them for their services
- (tip) cause to tilt; "tip the screen upward"
- Look at or watch closely or with interest
- good discernment (either visually or as if visually); "she has an eye for fresh talent"; "he has an artist's eye"
- look at
- the organ of sight
a study in contrasts.
yesterday was a city day for me. I had a few stops to make including one in the downtown core to pick up wonderful art supplies for some new work and a group starting next week with youth at storefront. For me, there is really nothing more akin to a treasure trove than an art materials shop, it is like being a child in a magic toy land. I stuffed the back of my explorer with large boxed pre stretched canvas (this is like a scene from a three stooges flick trying to load and unload and load again) already taking space things from a previous stop, funky kitchen supplies, shiny metal things, white enamel things, exciting things! and realized I could no longer see well from the back window so instead I drove forward in hopes of a turn about. this is not a part of town I am very familiar with but happily found a health unit to turn into. while trying to turn the rather giant vehicle about with the worlds least automatic steering, I kind of boxed in instead. ultimately this meant, about ten minutes in the parking lot waiting for space to clear...ten minutes that mattered. it was a clinic day at the health unit, smaller cities that do not have planned parenthood clinics or needle exchange buildings squeeze the services into the building where seniors go for flu shots and moms with babes come for immunizations and in blocks of time that feel incongruent, people that scatter throughout the street life and park shadows are in one place, in the stark days light. Some of the oldest eyes in the youngest faces one will ever see. This harsh contrast between worlds sometimes hits so hard and overwhelmingly that it is hard to breathe. One woman, barely more than a girl stumbled down the stairs, a tight dress that was more likely intended to have been a shirt, over torn tights, plastic boots with high worn heels, a coat open and slipping off her shoulders a bag slipping off her arm while she dug in for a lighter. Her hair had been up but was now mostly down, not very clean and unable to catch the sunlight, makeup from the night before - she caught my gaze, my small-town homebound gaze and tipped her head upright, jaw hardened, shoulders back lit her cigarette took a long deep drag, looked at me with flat expression and left on her way. I however carry her image as clearly as if a snap were taken, I did bring in the boxed paints as you know paint will separate when frozen and it was damned cold last night, but, the treasures are still boxed. I will get to them today and their newness will stir that sleeping excitement, but, last night while making dinner and folding laundry I could only think, it is so cold, I wonder where all of those people ended their day. Somewhere, someone’s child is being disrespected, is living as though they aren't valued, as though they are a lost treasure, and I wonder how do people live in cities where the sorrow is so near the surface?
Old woman sitting on a bench in front of a church