I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrated and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting at the trunk of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, and I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
- The Bell Jar
With all that I was consumed with this past week, I realized that it completely slipped my mind that I had not posted a picture of my much anticipated tattoo, which I finally sat down to get last Sunday. Four months of impatience, two hours of constant pain, and the most amazing tattoo artist to ever hold a gun to her delicate little fingers, resulted in the most beautiful piece of art, forever on my body for display. I love art. Art has consumed and become my life. Art is my motivation, my inspiration, my reason for being, and what I have become. I am fortunate enough to be able to see art through a completely different set of eyes than the one that are on my face. Not many can appreciate art, especially the abstract kind. It takes a seriously open mind and a beautiful soul to be able to look at a piece of art, and be able to fall in love with something as simple as brush strokes. I was lucky enough to have Amanda Wachob, an incredibly talented young lady with an incredible eye, impeccable skill, and an incredible artist, create this tattoo from me. This is her original art work, in the abstract style of painting that I, myself do and adore. I could not be happier with the eight pieces she painted for me to choose from, and with the ultimate piece that I have chosen to be on my body forever. This. Is. Art. I'm in love with every last stroke of this piece.
Today I feel Ibis, an apricot sort of color that always automatically reminds me of a stork - those mile long legs and matching beak that seem almost silly, but serve incredible functions. I've been running off two hours of sleep today, and feel surprisingly silly and upbeat. Lately I've been delivering advice to friends and been the bearer of news, good and bad. Ironically, like the stork is a delivery man himself. In fact, I see no irony here.
Current Listen: Rabbit Heart - Florence and the Machine (Lungs Mix)
