Getting my legs done today. In 4 hours. I'm feeling rather struck by the impact of this. I've wanted this, in general, for years and years, and I've wanted this, specifically, for, oh, six months. And I'd feel bereft of it if I changed my mind and chickened out. But... wow. This is a bigger deal than the last two. This is making a serious change to my body. This is becoming a tattooed person, instead of a person with tattoos. This is deep breath in, and hold, and release. Wow.
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
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