Inked: Part II.

Six weeks ago, I was inked.

After dizzying myself with concept-crafting, note-taking, researching artists, perusing portfolios, and coming to terms with having my body permanently marked, I offered myself as a human canvas for my blooming heart.

Continue reading “Inked: Part II.”

Inked: Part I.

Since my breach of adulthood, I’ve surprised my peers with my lack of ink. Maybe they saw my nose ring as a precursor for something more daring. Perhaps a tattoo was expected because of my, er, free-spirited nature. Maybe because, as an artist, it made sense to have something as creative as my brain displayed on my body. Or perhaps it’s my affinity for the bold. Whatever the reason, it surprised them.

Continue reading “Inked: Part I.”