Sunday, March 14, 2010

I... In... Ink...

He wore white and black. He has golden hair. His arms and legs are engraved with demonic faces and cryptic shapes. He belongs to the land of orchids and exoticism. He has hazy eyes and a faraway look inside them. He sat at the table and beckoned. A stab of apprehension. I knew he would hurt me. He looked at the various implements (if I may add) that lay around him. And it all began. Three and a half hours. He made my hand rest on his thigh as if to reassure me that the pain he would give me was akin to pleasure. His knee propped mine and he carefully engraved on my skin. Over and over he worked re-layering the contours, defining the shape, shadowing the depths. In between he would pause and survey the art that he was creating. I felt his breath on my skin and I could see the effort. What was the feeling? Did my soul connect with his? Or was it the serene face of Buddha which spurred us into a hazy oblivion where we ceased to be alive to our surroundings? For those three and half hours he and I were two bodyless beings floating in space. Pain receded to a background that seemed so far away. He sat there bent over me at times glancing at me, maybe to check if I was doing all right. And when it was done he sat back. And grinned. “Are you happy? I asked. “Yes, I am very happy,” he said.

It took me time to register the experience. Never before have I felt this way. This oneness with another human being. And despite the pain the beauty that was created had a purity that left me breathless. And I know he was affected by it too. The next day I asked him how on earth did he do it. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said.

He is Sia. Artist par excellence. At Al’s Tattoo Studio.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

In a frenzy

Dark night, blacker than the satan's soul (oh.. satan has a soul?) ... pause... you want me to continue? then you must not interrupt. are we clear about this one? good.

Now where were we...? Yes...

The night was dark. Darker than satan's soul. blacker than sin. you couldn't see your hand if you were to raise it to your eyes. moon chose to remain undercover. she'd had it with the asshole wind, ripping off the clouds from her body and exposing her to eyes... stars shed their light on earth. and you lay there. your eyes are closed. your hair flowing from beneath your head, like a dark pool. a pool of blood? one eye opens. "what are you thinking?" i start. "nothing", i say nonchalantly. are you watching me? from beneath those lids?
suddenly you get up, shaking the grass and leaves and grit from you body. your movements are sensuous. your hair slithers down to your a snake. i can almost see the darting tongues. heartbeats quicken as you walk towards me. i have been standing all this while and you are now so close i can see myself in your eyes. "we can't wait here forever. let's go". you turn back and walk with that heavy tread. full hips sway in sync with the feet. "are you gonna stand there all night watching my ass?" Damn... bitch! i walk irritatedly. this is it. no more late nights with her.