Even worse than this burning penetration were the moments before. I can deal with the needle, I can deal with the pain; it's waiting and uncertainty I can't stomach. Makes me lose my nerve. Makes me sick. But now I can lean here. Now I can grit my teeth and make small talk while the image and my skin become one.
More than an image, this is a transition piece. Now, I begin to put away childish things as I take a step further on my journey of becoming. Here's to the end of the affair; call this penitence for my transgressions. Here's to achievement and ambition: to my senior year of university and one step more towards my PhD. Here's to the independence of my first place; let this teach me the strength and patience I'll need to make this work.
This marks the end of my past, and of things gone by. Gone is the child who cried for want of a friend. Here is the woman with too many to count. Gone is the teasing and the insecurity. Here is the confidence and respect. Gangly awkwardness gives way to mature beauty, appealing in its quiet grace.
Bold lines and striking colours replace quiet shyness. Playfulness finds its long lost outlet. A figure to represent strength and protection to lend guidance, all placed before the unending circle of eternity. May it never falter.
My back burns, but I'm still here. Still answering polite questions. Where am I from. What am I taking at school. Why this image. All seemingly innocent and straightforward questions, and all deserving simple answers. But there's more to them. I grew up here, but I'm not from here. Mine is a world where faeries dance on the grass, where difference is welcomed and accepted and where there's a larger world view. I'm taking English, but it's so much more than that: Here lie my fantasies, my dreams and a world where nothing is impossible. In short, I'm following my heart's desire, and taking it as far as it will go. This image is to connect with my roots. Because I love cats. To give me something strong behind me so that when I lose my way, it shows me how to get home. The Witch in me delights in the black cat, while the Celt appreciates the intricate knots while the gods nod their approval. I can see them clearly now, if only for an instant.
He blots away the blood and ink, but with it he takes so much more. Here, I banish my faults, my short comings. Now, I start fresh in a perfect marriage of flesh and pigment. Colour me crimson for the blood I shed as a woman, for my tattoo, and as a dreamer. May it mix with my sweat and tears to bring me at last to my final destiny. Colour me yellow for the happiness that is to be mine, that is mine, and shades of grey for the uncertainties ahead. Now colour me black for all that is certain, all that has been, and to guard me. But most importantly, colour me black to represent the mystery wrapped within my naked painted skin.
I am inked.
