Sleeve of Water

March 9, 2015 by Carl Hallowell 0 comments
Sleeve of Water
traditional tiger tattoo

traditional tattoo sleeve

Didn’t take Jessica too many trips up to D-Town to get this bad boy wrapped up B. That’s because of the hours and hours she sits each session she comes to town. Did you hear the story of Bodhidharma’s tattoo? The Medusa tattoo who’s wearer had turned to stone? The Sailor who slept with two pin-ups every night? These and many more strange tales are just waiting to unfurl.

Underwater is where this trip leads us, “down and down, and down and down, and down and down we go”- Jimi Hendrix. Our guide is the musical soundtrack that steers us, beers us, and queers us. Into the blue, into the aquamarine waters we go. Nate is the Captain who watches over the waters. I am first mate, shoveling tattoo color into the tattoo fire, for propulsion, for warmth- I do not know- I just work. Water coming over the rail, water at the dummy rail, water oozing out from behind the flash sheets fastened to it, the room turning into water, no mutilation, no depression, “drive my car into the ocean”- Black Francis.

Tonight we have special guests on board, a special Bard is rolling through. His hefty band of merrymakers lightens up the night, the driving rain, the sleet and the flurries of snow. Back and forth they make merry and join us wholeheartedly in our voyage. Starboard to Port they bound, and back again, even without their fender host. The show is the same, and that you must believe. The Busman will come to gather them up at the right time. The Busman holds the time piece. He will get there early enough to barge through a couple choruses of golds and yellows, he will not miss the ship, and he will be streching the fabric of time for his road bandits one by one.

Unexpectedly, we arrive ashore as the morning light dimly grows. What omen awaits us now that we are done, have arrived? We look around and see only ourselves. A tribal drum beats atop the mountain forest. a golden sun shines from the countyside . The stainless steel is coming back into focus. Im waking up on the table. The needle gets sharper with repetitive use. I see this as the new tattoo comes to life. These and many more strange stories just waiting to unfurl…

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