twenty-three

“My mom did,” the client says. “She's an artist. I got a couple more that she designed, on my leg” - he lifts his foot - “and the back of my neck. That one's for pride. She doesn't want me to forget who I am and where I come from. It's so I keep my head up.”

I make a mental note to ask if I can see it when I'm done with his chest. His mother sounds like a neat woman, and a good mother.

Kona wanders off and continue inking. The client and his friend have a conversation about some fraternity party in a couple of weeks, and they talk about football, and they talk about their classes and a girl the friend is interested in. I listen with half an ear. If they want to include me in the conversation, they will, but there's nothing that says I shouldn't be listening.

After I'm done and the client's new tattoo has been shown off and covered with gauze, I ask if I can see the tattoo on the back of his neck. He obligingly pulls down the collar of his shirt so I can get a good look. It's small and triangular and I don't recognize it. Not that I've seen a lot of that kind of charm, but I've seen my fair share, on people and in books, and I'm always surprised when I come across one I don't know. I shouldn't be, because there are as many little charms and magical sigils as there are cultures and people who want them, but I am. Call it arrogance, I guess, and the conviction that I know what I'm doing more than you do.

( I take the opportunity to show Kay what I want him to do )

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twenty-four

I put out bread and milk for the brownies before bed, and am surprised as hell when it's still there in the morning. If they haven't eaten it - and sometimes they don't because they just don't like what I've put out for them, as I discover when my car won't start or all my tomato stakes have been pushed over - raccoons or chipmunks or the cat who lives down the street usually do. I don't know the last time there was still bread in the bowl in the morning. I don't know what it means, but my car starts and I don't notice any problems with anything in the house or anything missing, so I put it out of my mind.

I don't think Kay needs to be at the studio today and he wants to be left alone anyway, so I leave him to his own devices and go off to run errands and surprise Maggie at work and, on a whim, drop by the art store I like to see if they have any new and exciting watercolors. I should get back into painting more. I don't feel as if I've had time lately, when in fact if I added up the random free hours in a day I probably do. I just need to schedule myself better. I need to maybe take a day off.

( Art supply stores are always tempting )

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