Just Clearing My Head

...

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Morning Haiku

Crunch of cat litter
underneath my feet this morn'
catalyzes rage.


Getting a tattoo is a religious experience.

There is this requisite level of control that one must have over their body and mind... at first, the pain is excruciating. Once this initial shock is dealt with, you look for the acute sharpness of the needle with the hungry desire to keep defeating the sensations of the body. I am a rock, emily, let me prove it to you.(Of course it's entirely possible that this experience was unique to me because I'm simply a masochistic control freak.) There's this interesting level of affinity that exists for the artist, too. Imagine putting that much trust in a complete stranger... imagine going through that kind of mind/body ordeal at the hands of someone that you may have only spoken with once or twice. He worked so gently, but so resolutely; such an unwavering hand. I feel like he could be one of my closest kinsmen, and yet I know barely anything about him. Confidence, I guess, is the name of the game. I already want to do it again. My good sense (for the moment) won't allow me to add Dan Wulff's contact information to my palm pilot, regardless of how tempting it might be... (picture to follow)

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