About my wings, finding what was lost, and Halloween

Somewhere along the line, I lost myself. I hid my thoughts and feelings from my coworkers for five and a half years. Because the place was so conservative, I had to change the way I behaved, the way I dressed, and the way I look. My tattoos barely saw the light of day for that period of time. I even put my makeup on differently.

Unfortunately, now I'm trying to find myself again, and I'm not sure what's left of the person I was. It's not necessarily a bad thing. I just have to reinvest in myself, introspect, meditate, and get back in touch with the essence of my being. But, being alone with myself is tough. I haven't been without busy work for as long as I can remember. 

Whenever I've gone through a big transition, I've cut my hair off. This time, I cut it shortly before I left my job, the week I was on vacation. Like a reptile shedding it's skin, there's something liberating about physically removing a part of myself when entering a new era. I am a different person now. Literally. I like myself a lot more this way. I feel peaceful.

This fall, I'm going to alter myself again - physically. I've been planning a new tattoo for two years. James sketched it for me right around my birthday. I've been carrying it in my purse since then. It's Maya's name in Arabic drawn into the form of a water lily. I want to have it tattooed over my heart.

This has me thinking about my first major tattoo, which was also two years in the making. This October will be the nine year birthday of my wings. This is significant because it will also be my nine year anniversary with James and our seventh wedding anniversary. 

For the two years prior to meeting James, I thought about getting wings tattooed on my shoulderblades. At the time, I was fascinated by fairies and faery lore. Not Tinkerbell, but real faeries: The good, the bad, and the ugly. I started researching Amy Brown's fairy depictions. I liked hers the best of all the artists. Her fairies are playful, sweet, fun, mischievous, beautiful. Many are grounded in reality with bold, opaque colors. I love the ethereal look, but that's just not me.

So, I printed out my favorite Amy Brown pieces and went to my favorite tattoo studio. Sacred Heart Studio in Houston, a purple house converted to a two part studio, half dedicated to piercings and the other to tattoos. It's brightly lit and painted several different neon colors inside. Parked in back is the shop owners' art car: A giant yellow sunflower. 

The owners themselves are some of the most attractively decorated people I've ever seen. She's an older woman, probably early to mid forties, very fit, with short hot pink hair, dramatic makeup, spacers in her ears, and a lip piercing that looks like a Cindy Crawford mole. He's a short but very fit older man whom I can only describe as having the appearance of an artist. They don't talk much, but, when they do, their kind and eclectic personalities shine through.

So, I went in and asked for Danny, the tattoo artist who had done a different tattoo for me previously. The Danny that came up front to talk to me was not the Danny I remembered. I asked what happened to the other Danny, and new Danny told me he'd been shot and killed by his girlfriend. Um.... awkward.... 

But, new Danny and I got to know each other a bit. I showed him my printouts and explained my vision to him. He promised to draw up some sketches and call me in when they were ready. 

During this same period of time, I met James. After a rocky start, we became good friends. He came with me to get my tattoo. There were two sessions. At the first, while I winced in pain for a couple of hours, he held my hand and made jokes to distract me. Danny asked how we met. We both laughed and said we were "just friends."

By the time my wings were complete, James and I were a couple. I hosted a Halloween party where I debuted my wings. The two of us went shopping together for costumes. I found mine in the discount section because it was missing the wings, and, of course, that wasn't a problem for me. James didn't find anything. Once he decided what he'd be for my party, he wouldn't tell me. He wanted it to be a surprise. 

He came to my party as the Crow.

Life sometimes imitates art. Or is it vice versa?

James and I were married Halloween weekend. I wanted to be married on Halloween that year, but it was on a Monday. Instead, we were in London for our honeymoon. We got lost in Kensington Gardens, locked in after hours, but we didn't mind. We strolled hand in hand down well groomed paths between perfectly straight aisles of trees until we found an exit. We toured the streets, parks, and alleys with Brits in all sorts of costumes: ghouls, goblins, princesses, fairies, rag dolls, comic book characters....

I love Halloween, and here is why: We get to dress up. We get to be someone else. We get to show on the outside what we think we are on the inside. We express our humorous, fun, dark, and/or sensuous natures to the world. We can pretend for one day that we are not ourselves, and, in that moment, we are more like ourselves than ever.