Beautiful Scars of Art

There is something about needles that causes my stomach to lurch and my back to tighten. Even the small ones they poke your finger with to test your colesterol. I think it's from being in the ICU for so long when I was 12, those IV needles are like twigs. Its funny though, with every tattoo you have there is always that one person who says 'did that hurt' I never know how to reply to that question, still don't because my idea of unbearable life changing pain is emotional, not physical. Physical pain is my reminder i'm alive without it how would i know when i feel too good? it's ying and yang of life only in the perspective of ACHES physical and mental. My first tattoo was a tiny LEO sign on the back of my ankle, me and my best friend Annie got them togehter. Real rebels back then at what 17 I went ahead and got the black WITH blue outline, it's all of the size of a dime and my grandma always told me it looked like a worm. I knew the minute he fired that tattoo gun up back then it was going to be some sort of strange addiction for me and it is, still to this day. HOURS later and up to seven depending on how you count them, pieces of art i have collected I am preparing to further my collection in the coming days. I have wanted a half sleeve of flowers and butterflies for as long as i can remember and so Friday I get the start on the outside of my sleeve. I cannot wait. I have chose to use my own photography going forward, every flower, every butterfly will be one of my own shots. If i can't make a living out of what i love, i'll have an artist put it on me forever. The flower i picked for the first piece is magnificent- I want the entire top of my shoulder joint to be covered with this..... It's funny. I remember the day i took this picture. The place so fitting for how i feel inside right now, Sunken Gardens. Beautiful really. Anyways, It seems to be a pattern with me. I get injured emotionally and next thing you know i have new ink. Every piece of art on my body has significance to it, some pain, raw emotion, happiness and even peace. Reminders, and memories, dates and meaning all pint up in that little gun with about 20 needles in it depending on what your doing. When the tattoo gun fires up it's the adrenaline equivalent to hearing the bars lock down on your lap anticipating the roller coaster ride you so eagerly waited in line for. The smell of the ink as the artist carefully examines the picture to match color for color laying out a pallet of small plastic containers full of color. The last time i watched this particular artist create the lovely lotus on the inside of my right arm it was different from the last three artist i let work on me. He was different. I watched him put two different pinks back in the box then pull them out and compare at least twice before choosing and all be damned if by the time he was done it wasn't one of my favorite pieces. The minute the needles hit your skin the sound of the motor on the gun dulls down and your nerves twinge through your body. You are made aware immediately that something is happening physically and mentally you check into and focus on THAT.... in a way it's a meditation.... at least to me. It's a pain, but unlike any other. Its therapeutic. watching the artist basically paint an image into your skin and the sound of the air compressor running the gun in the back ground brings you to the moment with no choice but to BE in the moment. Your attention, every nerve of your body is there.... under his hand. Soft handed this man, he made brush strokes as if it were a water color. I knew five minutes in he was going to OWN my right arm and I am proud to say i have my appt. Friday it begins. I think we all have our quirks, our odd vices, strange addictions or fucked up patterns we follow. This is mine. When i originally chose this picture to be the first piece to start the sleeve, I chose it because of the moment, because for only the second time I was getting this in place of a good memory. not a memorial, or a phrase to remind me to stop letting people walk on me, it was on my arm the moment the shutter snapped on the camera. The happiness i felt that day has been swiftly replaced by pain which come Friday will transform into reality, a part of me.... another memory meant to be happy that will forever remind me of RIGHT NOW. I can't wait to feel the cold trace paper on my arm as he peels it back and applies AD ointment- the smell, the sound. I can close my eyes and listen to the vibration of the gun against my skin, tearing and burning the same place over and over in a motion that would cause most to cringe it makes me relax because with every every physical nerve twinge something from the emotional pain goes away. As if the emotional wear and tear in my soul is extracted into this air and needle filled gun and deposited forever in my arm. With every stroke, every needle, every scar filled with INK my soul gets lighter, the pain in my heart subsides and i feel stronger. It sounds insane i'm sure. Physical pain to erase the emotional but i'll take physical any day. I dont have a lot left in my soul to be damaged anymore before i stop caring inside dont come back again. I dont want be the girl i was once, cold, heartless almost and with the first sign of emotion i ran. The unatainable because i was so scared to be hurt again i had no faith whatsoever in love. So this sleeve, with every payment, every appointment, every breath taking inch of this artwork is going to be filled with my true intentions, what is left for me. The rest of the girl i almost lost. If i hide that soft sweet girl among the flora in my arm she will be deposited forever and maybe later when it's time i can find her again a reminder of the possibilities my future hold, the reminder that i am capable and when the time comes and the stars align maybe i wont be wrong this time. Stay Tuned- NAMASTE