The Prodigal Returns
So it's been more than half a year since I've been on this thing. Surprisingly, it's not that I've completely forgotten for once. Just mostly forgotten. Anyway, I probably shouldn't attempt to update you guys (whoever ye may be) in my current state since my brain is basically a formless vapor-thing. But I shall try.
Number one thing that I figured I should mention first (hence Numero Uno-o status) :
I GOT A MOTHER-FUCKIN JOB.
Finally, eh? I'm a part of the Kitchen Crew in a fancy bistro place close to home. Been there for almost 4 months now; strange how fast time flies. Unfortunately, it's only 8.50/hour and I bust my ass and have been granted 2nd place in 'Who Has The Most Hours', but still... Quite taxing some days. Other than that, I've been knitting a shit-ton of socks, and reading The Sandman series by Sir Gaiman. I'm irrevocably in love.
I'll very likely be getting a second tattoo in February or March, so I've been psyching myself out with that. Silence of the Lambs moth with either poppy flowers or roses. I still have to make a consultation appointment with the tattooist I've chosen which maybe today or later this week.
I've loved Silence of the Lambs - the entire Hannibal Lecter series - since I first was exposed to it. I read SOTL when I was 13; a special time for me, and I mean that in the semi-psychotic, morbidly not-sane way. In short, it was a godsend. I fell in love with the characters, and the stories. I never thought I would get a tattoo a la' Hannibal, but it seemed fitting to do so as of late. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that if I ever were to get a tattoo, it would have to have a personal meaning. My first tattoo was a pair of wings on my back the size of my fists; not frilly angel wings, but sharp, dark, demonic-ish wings with blood streaming from where they 'sprouted'. I got it done on my 18th birthday as a gift from my old man. The wings symbolized the freedoms of 18-dom, the hardships I went through to get certain personal freedoms, and that though I felt caged in my life for so long, now was time to change and learn what it felt like to fly. The session was 3 1/2 hours. It didn't hurt most of the time, except near the end became slightly annoying. I loved the outcome, and still do. I might retouch the blood, and make it a darker red.
My second tattoo idea's meaning was in total essence, accidental. My thought process: "Hey, I love SOTL, why not get a tattoo of the moth with some flowers or somethin'?" The Voice of Rationality was strong that day. "Remember what you promised." Sigh. Fiiiinnee. So I decided to look up the symbolism of moths.
'Moths are nocturnal, and much of their symbolism deals with:
As if being a night-dweller weren’t enough, the moths are babes of the moon. They follow the mother moon as a source of light, and this connects them with some powerful moon associations such as:
As humans, we may translate this as symbolic of living our lives by intuitive feeling rather than physical sensory perception.
Philosophically speaking, night creatures do not tumble in the dark, and neither do humans. We use our dreams, our awareness, and our deeper, inner knowing to navigate through the darkest hours of our lives. '
Imagine my delight. I've always been a bit of a night-owl, and have had a special connection with night hours, and the moon. I wanted something that symbolized personal transformation, confidence, beauty, and the acceptance of darker things in all of us. I wanted a reminder of my strength in intuition, and to hone the ability to adapt to all that life throws. I wanted something colorful and yet not rainbowy. I really think it's going to turn out amazing. I will post pictures as soon as possible after it's done. Hopefully it won't put too large of a hole in my wallet...
Anywho, all's relatively well. The occasional up-down-up-down-itis, but that is expected. Having a job has helped insurmountably. Now, hobbies. And possibly... friends.
The anti-socialist in me is sneering slightly.
Oh, I also got my nipples pierced with my good friend in November. :) Great bonding experience. You should see the video; she squeals when pierced; I moan. How wonderfully strange, and perfectly unsurprising.
Number one thing that I figured I should mention first (hence Numero Uno-o status) :
I GOT A MOTHER-FUCKIN JOB.
Finally, eh? I'm a part of the Kitchen Crew in a fancy bistro place close to home. Been there for almost 4 months now; strange how fast time flies. Unfortunately, it's only 8.50/hour and I bust my ass and have been granted 2nd place in 'Who Has The Most Hours', but still... Quite taxing some days. Other than that, I've been knitting a shit-ton of socks, and reading The Sandman series by Sir Gaiman. I'm irrevocably in love.
I'll very likely be getting a second tattoo in February or March, so I've been psyching myself out with that. Silence of the Lambs moth with either poppy flowers or roses. I still have to make a consultation appointment with the tattooist I've chosen which maybe today or later this week.
I've loved Silence of the Lambs - the entire Hannibal Lecter series - since I first was exposed to it. I read SOTL when I was 13; a special time for me, and I mean that in the semi-psychotic, morbidly not-sane way. In short, it was a godsend. I fell in love with the characters, and the stories. I never thought I would get a tattoo a la' Hannibal, but it seemed fitting to do so as of late. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that if I ever were to get a tattoo, it would have to have a personal meaning. My first tattoo was a pair of wings on my back the size of my fists; not frilly angel wings, but sharp, dark, demonic-ish wings with blood streaming from where they 'sprouted'. I got it done on my 18th birthday as a gift from my old man. The wings symbolized the freedoms of 18-dom, the hardships I went through to get certain personal freedoms, and that though I felt caged in my life for so long, now was time to change and learn what it felt like to fly. The session was 3 1/2 hours. It didn't hurt most of the time, except near the end became slightly annoying. I loved the outcome, and still do. I might retouch the blood, and make it a darker red.
My second tattoo idea's meaning was in total essence, accidental. My thought process: "Hey, I love SOTL, why not get a tattoo of the moth with some flowers or somethin'?" The Voice of Rationality was strong that day. "Remember what you promised." Sigh. Fiiiinnee. So I decided to look up the symbolism of moths.
'Moths are nocturnal, and much of their symbolism deals with:
- Intuition
- Psychic perception
- Heightened awareness
As if being a night-dweller weren’t enough, the moths are babes of the moon. They follow the mother moon as a source of light, and this connects them with some powerful moon associations such as:
- Knowledge of the Otherworld
- Second sight
- Influence
- Prophesy
- Clarity
As humans, we may translate this as symbolic of living our lives by intuitive feeling rather than physical sensory perception.
Philosophically speaking, night creatures do not tumble in the dark, and neither do humans. We use our dreams, our awareness, and our deeper, inner knowing to navigate through the darkest hours of our lives. '
Imagine my delight. I've always been a bit of a night-owl, and have had a special connection with night hours, and the moon. I wanted something that symbolized personal transformation, confidence, beauty, and the acceptance of darker things in all of us. I wanted a reminder of my strength in intuition, and to hone the ability to adapt to all that life throws. I wanted something colorful and yet not rainbowy. I really think it's going to turn out amazing. I will post pictures as soon as possible after it's done. Hopefully it won't put too large of a hole in my wallet...
Anywho, all's relatively well. The occasional up-down-up-down-itis, but that is expected. Having a job has helped insurmountably. Now, hobbies. And possibly... friends.
The anti-socialist in me is sneering slightly.
Oh, I also got my nipples pierced with my good friend in November. :) Great bonding experience. You should see the video; she squeals when pierced; I moan. How wonderfully strange, and perfectly unsurprising.