CunningLinguist

i have eight tattoos and 4 piercings.

the piercings are all standard, two in my left ear, one in my right and my tongue. i`ve had my ears pierced since the 80s. it seems funny to say that, but i`ve had my ears pierced almost half my life.

i did them at different points over the period of a year, much to my mother`s chagrin, but by the time she realised they had been done, they were healed.

the tongue was and is my last piercing. i have no desire to do anywhere else. i had it done in london just over 3 years ago. the immediate pain was like biting my tongue and for the days following i lived on soup, spaghetti and other easily swallowed food all chased by my ever present companion listerine.

most people don`t know my tongue is pierced, i don`t click, i don`t lisp and i don`t play with it in public. i like to believe my piercing is functional, not decorative.

my first tattoo was a mouse done in my apartment by a guy with a needle, it wasn`t very attractive and i`m proud to say it`s since been covered by the moon on my right bicep.

my first real tattoo was a 13″ sun on my right shoulder blade. it took three sittings to complete. i spent most of the first sitting fighting back the tears with the bene gesserit mantra, however towards the end of the sitting some girl walked in and completely broke my concentration. i finally broke down and cried.

the second and third sitting, as well as the moon on my bicep and my daughter`s name in sanskrit was a walk in the park. i had learned the joy of pain.

the first prick of the needle is always unexpected, but after a while the hum of the machine, the smell of ink and blood and the sting of your skin becomes quite comforting. i think that`s what makes tattoos so addictive.

originally the theme of my ink was stellar. the sun on my back, the moon on my bicep, a comet on left forearm. but it changed somewhere along the line. it`s more about permanence. the ourobus on my right forearm is a symbol of fertility and the infinite. the waves at the base of my spine are off my wedding band.

i`m in the process of doing a new piece which is somewhat indicative of the confusion and frustration in my life now. it hasn`t been titled yet. i feel the need to get back to it.

i’m waiting for my daughter to finish up in the library so we can go home and addict that i am, i decided that a quick post was in order.

also some clarification. i have nothing against naturally thin women or big women that are seeking to get to a healthier weight. my problem lies with women who have never been and/or will never be a size (insert size here) and starving, carving and maiming themselves for this unattainable ideal. just so we’re clear.

so k got her ink today finally and i got to continue you my very large and ornate piece (pic tomorrow when it’s not so gross). i realise i do get off on the pain to some extent and now k, is trying to convince me to pierce my nipples (i worry that i’ll lose the lovely sensitivity).

k’s phoenix is beautiful and she was quite the trooper, while i whimpered and flinched, she just sat there smiled. once darren starts work i’m fine, but it’s the initial stick of needle that’s the fucking bastard.

i maybe on the radio in the morning talking about being tattoo’d and pierced but i need to check with k first. time to go get the chica. adieu.