(no subject)
This summer's plan seems to be bringing very random people into my life, if only for one night at a time.
Last night I went to Cara's and we were both tired and having a quiet hang out sesh when Aaron came by with news that his friend was up for giving tattoos. Of course we rushed over and Cara started hers first (I didn't get mine because it got too late.) What a surreal experience. Nicole, the tattoo artist, just started tattooing about a month and a half ago and picked it up on her own, no apprenticing, nothing. Her boyfriend of sorts, Kurt, bought her the supplies so she could tattoo over his many scars. The tattoos on his arm were beautifully done, the color really amazing, and it was so hard to believe she just started ("Just another medium to do art.") The strange part was their dynamic. I really trusted Nicole, she talked Cara through the whole process, put on PJ Harvey at Cara's request and made endless offers of water, rice dream and pot. She spoke of not charging money because she thought it was such a wonderful, spiritual thing for someone to offer up their skin to her as their canvas. She has a really nice presence.
Kurt, on the other hand, was something of a character to say the least. His arms and legs covered by scabs and scars from being an $800 a day heroin user for 27 years. He freely spoke of his life, his wife passing on, loosing the child he raised (although it was his wife's and best friend's, not his. He got together with his wife a few years after his best friend had been severely brain damaged from an accident.) He oscillated between being nice and super accomodating and funny and being slightly intimidating. He kept hovering over Nicole, teasing her in a taunting way and calling her "baby" way too much. Each joke seemed to have an underlying sexual innuendo but then he would mention how he never thought he would wear short sleeves again until Nicole picked up tattooing and started to practice on him. I changed my mind about Kurt every five seconds.
But he did give me 5 unripped concert tickets of the Grateful Dead to give to Kate (he used to work for them) and he did offer his smoke and he did give me a ride home and didn't even attempt to hit on me eventhough I was wearing a dress. I swear to God, he was like a tough Sean Penn movie character come to life.
I felt bad about leaving Cara in that environment with the pain of being tattooed. But I also was desperate for my bed. I fell asleep pretty immediately because the weather had cooled down quite a bit but still I am dragging at work this morning. I hope her Fem Fist looks amazing, and I am sure it does. I'll have to take a cig break and call her soon.
That was my night. Tonight: hip hop open mic with Rikke's friend's daughter Julia from Copenhagen who is visiting them for a few weeks. Is it corny to say I'm really psyched?
Last night I went to Cara's and we were both tired and having a quiet hang out sesh when Aaron came by with news that his friend was up for giving tattoos. Of course we rushed over and Cara started hers first (I didn't get mine because it got too late.) What a surreal experience. Nicole, the tattoo artist, just started tattooing about a month and a half ago and picked it up on her own, no apprenticing, nothing. Her boyfriend of sorts, Kurt, bought her the supplies so she could tattoo over his many scars. The tattoos on his arm were beautifully done, the color really amazing, and it was so hard to believe she just started ("Just another medium to do art.") The strange part was their dynamic. I really trusted Nicole, she talked Cara through the whole process, put on PJ Harvey at Cara's request and made endless offers of water, rice dream and pot. She spoke of not charging money because she thought it was such a wonderful, spiritual thing for someone to offer up their skin to her as their canvas. She has a really nice presence.
Kurt, on the other hand, was something of a character to say the least. His arms and legs covered by scabs and scars from being an $800 a day heroin user for 27 years. He freely spoke of his life, his wife passing on, loosing the child he raised (although it was his wife's and best friend's, not his. He got together with his wife a few years after his best friend had been severely brain damaged from an accident.) He oscillated between being nice and super accomodating and funny and being slightly intimidating. He kept hovering over Nicole, teasing her in a taunting way and calling her "baby" way too much. Each joke seemed to have an underlying sexual innuendo but then he would mention how he never thought he would wear short sleeves again until Nicole picked up tattooing and started to practice on him. I changed my mind about Kurt every five seconds.
But he did give me 5 unripped concert tickets of the Grateful Dead to give to Kate (he used to work for them) and he did offer his smoke and he did give me a ride home and didn't even attempt to hit on me eventhough I was wearing a dress. I swear to God, he was like a tough Sean Penn movie character come to life.
I felt bad about leaving Cara in that environment with the pain of being tattooed. But I also was desperate for my bed. I fell asleep pretty immediately because the weather had cooled down quite a bit but still I am dragging at work this morning. I hope her Fem Fist looks amazing, and I am sure it does. I'll have to take a cig break and call her soon.
That was my night. Tonight: hip hop open mic with Rikke's friend's daughter Julia from Copenhagen who is visiting them for a few weeks. Is it corny to say I'm really psyched?