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smackenzieI say goodbye to Liliana and Kelly, wish them a safe trip home, promise if I'm ever in Atlanta I'll give them a call, and wave them off. I fetch my car and drive to the studio, thinking ahead to my clients and what other things I have to accomplish today.
One of the most important things I don't need to do is clean up any more leaky sinks. The cookies have done the trick and the little studio spirit is pleased. Sometimes I wish it would do some good, rather than just not do something bad, but most of the time that's the way it is with magical creatures - they do what they want to satisfy their own interests. They're not a lot different from people that way.
A client has to cancel so I have a big chunk of free time in the middle of the day, and I take advantage of it to go home and see how Diego is doing by himself. He's asleep in the middle of my bed, and it looks like he's eaten some food and had some water, so he must be doing just fine. After having been terrorized by Alicia's cat, he probably relishes the solitude.
I pick some tomatoes, look over my garden, have a snack, and go back to work.
The day passes mostly uneventfully. One of Kona's clients, a big burly guy with a big burly beard, nearly passes out not thirty minutes into a memorial tattoo on his chest, but aside from that things are pretty much business as usual. We get some walk-ins, two of whom make appointments with Maya and one of whom ends up talking to me. She has grand ideas for a tree of life on her back, drawing from several world religions and belief systems, with some additional magical charms and symbols woven in. She has notes. Lots of notes. She hasn't looked at any of our portfolios online, so I pull out a couple of binders with photos of our work that she can page through. I'm curious how she found us and why she came in if she hasn't seen our portfolios - Suzume Tattoos isn't in the most heavily-trafficked area, and we don't generally see a lot of foot traffic - but when I ask, she says she has a friend who got a back piece from Maya and we come highly recommended.
"You don't want to make an appointment with Maya?" I ask.
The girl looks up from my portfolio binder. "I like your style better," she says.
I want every artist who works with me to get interesting work from invested clients, but anyone who tells you they don't feel a little thrill every time someone expresses a preference for their art is lying.
It's another fifteen minutes before this new client feels that I have a good handle on what she wants. I don't like being dictated to - it's one of the main reasons I wanted to open my own shop - but sometimes I have to make an exception for clients, because while I always have my own ideas of what will look good and what won't, I also want to make the client happy. And when it comes to something as full of meaning and as thought-out as this girl's tree of life, I need to be careful with my suggestions and my ego.
She finally makes an appointment and leaves me all her notes. I have ideas already, not to mention a couple of sketches I did while we were talking, so I can get started on her design at any time. There are a couple of things ahead of her in my schedule, but I can still make some notes of my own. I take everything into the office, put it in a folder, write her name and the date and time of her appointment on the tab, and put it in the little file rack on the desk. That's where I keep designs in progress (before the client comes in) and finished designs ready to be stenciled and applied.
"Oh, hey, Sparrow," Kona says, a little while later, "how do you feel about being set up? Royal's got a friend."
Royal is Kona's girlfriend's other boyfriend. Sometimes this makes him Kona's boyfriend too, and sometimes Kona's "just not feeling the labels, man".
"Man friend or woman friend?" I ask.
"Woman friend. Yes, no?"
"Do you know anything about her?"
"Her name's Maggie. She kickboxes. She moved here seven months ago. Royal says she's really nice."
"So you're setting me up with a total stranger, basically."
"I guess. What do you think?"
"Sure, why not. Tell her to call me. Oh, shit." I smack myself in the face. Nila. I never called her back.
"Don't tell her to call you?"
"No, she can call me. That's not it. My ex left me a message yesterday. I should call her back."
"You should." Kona flips through the appointment book at his station, flaps the dreads over his neck, and says "I'm gonna get some fresh air. I'll be back in like half an hour."
I clean up and straighten up and think about what I'm going to say to Nila when I get around to returning her call. We broke up a year ago, for a number of reasons including her desire to have children and my desire not to, and since then she's met someone else and moved in with her. I don't wish Nila any ill, but neither do I really need to still be friends, and I wouldn't still be talking to her if she hadn't decided she wants me back.
I wait until after dinner. Fortunately it's a short conversation - she wants me to come by tomorrow night, and I don't know how to say no. She's sick of hobbling around the house and her girlfriend is out of town for another few days, and all she wants is so company, really, that's it. I think she's starting to protest too much, but I know she won't cheat, and I'm certainly not going to encourage her. I think she just wants me to give her an excuse to break up with her girlfriend. I'm not going to. I dated her once, I don't have to do it again. Besides, I theoretically have a date with Maggie the kickboxer, assuming she calls me.
I'm sitting on my couch working on a tree of life design for that one client and listening to bands I liked when I was in college when someone rings my doorbell. I think it must be Alicia again, but I can't guess what she'd need now, unless she's ready to talk about whatever it was that was stressing her out.
It's not Alicia.
"Kay?" I say. "What are you doing here?"
"I was on the bus," he says. "It seemed like a good idea."
"Well, come in. You can meet my cat."
"You have a cat?"
"I got him yesterday. His name's Diego Rivera. My neighbor across the street was keeping him for one of her TAs, but her cat was terrorizing him so she gave him to me. He's very placid. You're not allergic, are you?"
Kay has been to my house - well, I've brought him home - but I've never had a cat so there was never anything for him to be allergic to. I knew Liliana wasn't allergic, because we lived with cats, and I guessed that Kelly wasn't either, but there's so much about Kay that I don't know.
"I'm not," he says. We've reached the sunroom, where I was drawing, and Diego is still curled up on the couch, apparently asleep. Kay goes over and sits down next to him. Diego doesn't budge. He really is a placid cat.
"Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?"
"Soda?"
"Got it."
words: 1273
total words: 15,742
One of the most important things I don't need to do is clean up any more leaky sinks. The cookies have done the trick and the little studio spirit is pleased. Sometimes I wish it would do some good, rather than just not do something bad, but most of the time that's the way it is with magical creatures - they do what they want to satisfy their own interests. They're not a lot different from people that way.
A client has to cancel so I have a big chunk of free time in the middle of the day, and I take advantage of it to go home and see how Diego is doing by himself. He's asleep in the middle of my bed, and it looks like he's eaten some food and had some water, so he must be doing just fine. After having been terrorized by Alicia's cat, he probably relishes the solitude.
I pick some tomatoes, look over my garden, have a snack, and go back to work.
The day passes mostly uneventfully. One of Kona's clients, a big burly guy with a big burly beard, nearly passes out not thirty minutes into a memorial tattoo on his chest, but aside from that things are pretty much business as usual. We get some walk-ins, two of whom make appointments with Maya and one of whom ends up talking to me. She has grand ideas for a tree of life on her back, drawing from several world religions and belief systems, with some additional magical charms and symbols woven in. She has notes. Lots of notes. She hasn't looked at any of our portfolios online, so I pull out a couple of binders with photos of our work that she can page through. I'm curious how she found us and why she came in if she hasn't seen our portfolios - Suzume Tattoos isn't in the most heavily-trafficked area, and we don't generally see a lot of foot traffic - but when I ask, she says she has a friend who got a back piece from Maya and we come highly recommended.
"You don't want to make an appointment with Maya?" I ask.
The girl looks up from my portfolio binder. "I like your style better," she says.
I want every artist who works with me to get interesting work from invested clients, but anyone who tells you they don't feel a little thrill every time someone expresses a preference for their art is lying.
It's another fifteen minutes before this new client feels that I have a good handle on what she wants. I don't like being dictated to - it's one of the main reasons I wanted to open my own shop - but sometimes I have to make an exception for clients, because while I always have my own ideas of what will look good and what won't, I also want to make the client happy. And when it comes to something as full of meaning and as thought-out as this girl's tree of life, I need to be careful with my suggestions and my ego.
She finally makes an appointment and leaves me all her notes. I have ideas already, not to mention a couple of sketches I did while we were talking, so I can get started on her design at any time. There are a couple of things ahead of her in my schedule, but I can still make some notes of my own. I take everything into the office, put it in a folder, write her name and the date and time of her appointment on the tab, and put it in the little file rack on the desk. That's where I keep designs in progress (before the client comes in) and finished designs ready to be stenciled and applied.
"Oh, hey, Sparrow," Kona says, a little while later, "how do you feel about being set up? Royal's got a friend."
Royal is Kona's girlfriend's other boyfriend. Sometimes this makes him Kona's boyfriend too, and sometimes Kona's "just not feeling the labels, man".
"Man friend or woman friend?" I ask.
"Woman friend. Yes, no?"
"Do you know anything about her?"
"Her name's Maggie. She kickboxes. She moved here seven months ago. Royal says she's really nice."
"So you're setting me up with a total stranger, basically."
"I guess. What do you think?"
"Sure, why not. Tell her to call me. Oh, shit." I smack myself in the face. Nila. I never called her back.
"Don't tell her to call you?"
"No, she can call me. That's not it. My ex left me a message yesterday. I should call her back."
"You should." Kona flips through the appointment book at his station, flaps the dreads over his neck, and says "I'm gonna get some fresh air. I'll be back in like half an hour."
I clean up and straighten up and think about what I'm going to say to Nila when I get around to returning her call. We broke up a year ago, for a number of reasons including her desire to have children and my desire not to, and since then she's met someone else and moved in with her. I don't wish Nila any ill, but neither do I really need to still be friends, and I wouldn't still be talking to her if she hadn't decided she wants me back.
I wait until after dinner. Fortunately it's a short conversation - she wants me to come by tomorrow night, and I don't know how to say no. She's sick of hobbling around the house and her girlfriend is out of town for another few days, and all she wants is so company, really, that's it. I think she's starting to protest too much, but I know she won't cheat, and I'm certainly not going to encourage her. I think she just wants me to give her an excuse to break up with her girlfriend. I'm not going to. I dated her once, I don't have to do it again. Besides, I theoretically have a date with Maggie the kickboxer, assuming she calls me.
I'm sitting on my couch working on a tree of life design for that one client and listening to bands I liked when I was in college when someone rings my doorbell. I think it must be Alicia again, but I can't guess what she'd need now, unless she's ready to talk about whatever it was that was stressing her out.
It's not Alicia.
"Kay?" I say. "What are you doing here?"
"I was on the bus," he says. "It seemed like a good idea."
"Well, come in. You can meet my cat."
"You have a cat?"
"I got him yesterday. His name's Diego Rivera. My neighbor across the street was keeping him for one of her TAs, but her cat was terrorizing him so she gave him to me. He's very placid. You're not allergic, are you?"
Kay has been to my house - well, I've brought him home - but I've never had a cat so there was never anything for him to be allergic to. I knew Liliana wasn't allergic, because we lived with cats, and I guessed that Kelly wasn't either, but there's so much about Kay that I don't know.
"I'm not," he says. We've reached the sunroom, where I was drawing, and Diego is still curled up on the couch, apparently asleep. Kay goes over and sits down next to him. Diego doesn't budge. He really is a placid cat.
"Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?"
"Soda?"
"Got it."
words: 1273
total words: 15,742
