Diary - Thursday, December 6th, 2001

Life, the universe, and a cup of tea.

Last night, went to see Claudia again. What can I say? It was painful. It's always painful. This is the nature of large amounts of damage. Still, due to exhaustion during work, I simply collapsed and stayed numb while she worked on me.

Edging, filling.

Engraving.

I was, in fact, so still that she managed to get more done than usual, was even able to start up the top of my right wing. So now I have a large swath of colour across my right hand side, and it is finally - finally - begining to look as though the artwork may one day be finished.

She told me that, with an end arriving in sight, I'd have to get her to design a 'water' theme for my legs, to meet up with the fire and create balance. No, I'm afraid. I don't want any more work. Just one tattoo is enough. It's going to, when finished, cover over a tenth of my skin area in any case.

Occassionally people who do not know me talk about tattooing in my presence. Someone, with a tiny piece the size of a coin, will say 'It doesn't hurt a bit! If you're afraid of it, you're a coward.'

Fools.

It feels like being etched with a very sharp knife, what, you're not going to be afraid or nervous of that? I get nervous every fucking Wednesday about the pain ahead. Sometimes the sensation of damage is oddly interesting, curious, or even desirable. It all depends on which nerves have been hit, and how. In one area, last night, she tattooed up near my neck and the pain was so severe it flipped and became no pain at all. Just switched off. A centimeter to the left, for some reason it felt good, as though she was hitting an itchy spot and soothing it.

At least, to these people, I am able to say "Yes, it hurts, it hurts like anything in some areas, and you know how I know? Because my work covers my entire back, kid. So deal."

Caught sight of it in the mirror, the small feathers now detailed. And I thought "My God, that's beautiful!"

And noticed myself thinking that, and was happy.