What started in March finally ended in May after three sessions. As space continued to get filled up on my arm, I just assumed we'd have more work to do. I stopped asking the tattooist when it would be done. When she announced this time around that we were going to be finished, I said, "Oh I'm gonna miss this."
While this process had prevented me from swimming, sometimes balling, and leaving San Diego for too long, I realized I enjoyed the element of surprise from going in each time. It was fun not knowing. Some people report a sort of meditative state when they're getting tattooed. That does not happen to me. While there's not much pain -- except on the elbow! -- I kept staring at other much more heavily tattooed people and wondering how long those pieces took. If something like this was about ten hours, what could a full sleeve be? An entire back? Likely I'll never find out personally, but I'm curious.
The final piece isn't exactly what I envisioned, and there have been points where I was like "where is this going?" but it's about process and knowing it's yours. I just keep staring at it, wondering what's next. After having just the outline for so long, it was a shock to see the top filled in with shading. Like damn, my arm suddenly just got colored in by super crayon and super dark.
I've been talking to my long lost friend quite a bit recently. We shift through the memories from years ago. It's really strange to not have thought about someone for over a decade and then to have it all come rushing back, just like it was yesterday. We're sort of re-tracing our steps, back through our entire friendship, day by day. The things that she remembers, and the details that we both haven't forgotten, are numerous but always still surprising. The other day she was telling me about how excited I was to share the word "defenestration" with everyone in sight. I was like, "Oh yeah, I did do that. Haha. How lame was I?"
We marveled over how just hearing each other's voices brought us way back, to the beginning of college when we knew each other. Which is strange though, because while we did many things, we never talked on the phone. So in a way we must be just generating memories of phone voice and the familiarity that comes with it. And there's a good chance we don't have mental images of each other right now. I mean, I've been trying to piece together what she looked like exactly. How was her hair? What did she wear? Did I see her on campus when we stopped being friends? I did, but I think we both totally blocked each other out. And now, no old photos exist, no Facebook profiles to explore. Nothing.
Also for me, I recall the beats, the what we dids, but for some reason I don't recall what we talked about, like no actual specific conversations. Even though we must have covered a lot, because all we did was hang outside on campus and talk and talk and talk.
My mom just asked me what I was doing this weekend. She then handed me some papers and brochures for a "leadership and character development company." Her friend just took her for an introductory night or something and my mom thinks it would be good for me. Mothers are always looking out. (This is a good time to mention that since I left my phone in the valeted car for last night's wedding, I didn't even call home to say "Happy Mother's Day." Geezes.)
The last question on the enrollment form is "what do you want to accomplish by participating in the personal mastery seminar?" I'd pay a small sum just to hear people's answers. Actually wait, no I wouldn't. The retail price for this weekend course is over a grand, which is a little less than what I paid for my tattoo. I don't need life change and transformation, not when I have ink. Body over mind right?
Man, you should watch these introductory videos. I think you'd really enjoy them.
Man, you should watch these introductory videos. I think you'd really enjoy them.
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