A gaggle of beautiful Amazon femme friends
Zulu is a tattoo artist. A famous one, at that. He’s inked stars like Dennis Rodman and that awesome African American woman on Mad TV, Deborah. The Universe told me he’s the man to do my back tapestry. The one featuring Sacha, my spirit guide and Jaguar goddess. She lives in my chest. I found that out in the first intense moments of Night One of Ayahuasca. Since then, I’ve been increasingly obsessed with creating a massive homage to her on my back. I love me some tattoos, and I’ve always known my back was an empty canvas, to be filled with something magical.
Well, a few months back, I thought I might get liposuction. Maybe you remember. I reached the pinnacle of my body-hatred and the dam was going to blow. Instead, Sacha came to me and changed my mind. I thought it better to honor her, and leave the lipo for porn stars. She told me someone would love me madly as is anyway, and what a waste, to take some of these beautiful hips away.
Now, of course I would pick the world’s most coveted tattoo artist. It took over 2 months to get a consultation, and my first session won’t be until October of next year. Unless the Universe intervenes earlier, but I’m fine with waiting. On the way to his studio today, I almost left my body. I’ve been having fierce back pain the last 2 days (ironic? not exactly.), and I decided it was time to stop. I put on Datura, a Tori Amos song – one that saved my life in the Amazon. She convinced me to fight for my bliss, and not succumb to the death. I found my rebirth in the long list of plants she channels in that song, and I know it would heal me.
I drove like mad to my appointment, and felt myself rise. I found that place of unconditional love, and locked in with my claws. I felt so unbelievably free and peaceful. Then I found this huge well of adoration, and it was all for me. My love for myself. Most notably, my body. This. . .isn’t a normal occurrence. But I love a man that loves me without abandon, and it’s having an effect. Last night, he said he loved my belly and my hips. Body parts I have previously loathed with such intense disgust, it’s amazing they haven’t shriveled up from the rejection. Today, as I made my way to Zulu, I started falling in love with this little house I live in. I imagined what the tattoo will look like. How excited I am to just go balls out and honor my body and my spiritual identity. I thought I might cry and smear my makeup. I thought it was wonderful that I didn’t fucking care.
Once I arrived, I rather breathlessly told Zulu the tale of my tat. I want Sacha – the most beautiful jaguar you could ever imagine – draped in grand fashion across my back, lounging on a tree with lots of Ayahuasca vines hanging down. All around her will be the foliage of the Amazon. Below the tree will be scattered rocks, etched with Incan symbols for things like Jaguar, Lord, Light, and Renewal. I will incorporate a symbol created by Z that represents who he is – and our oneness.
Zulu got the vision in an instant, and he flipped out over the significance. He knows what this means. He is the man to give my spiritual awakening an artistic and tangible legacy. At one point, he paused from looking at my reference art, and said to me simply – “This is going to be one of the masterpieces of my entire life.”
I believe him. We’re looking at roughly 50 hours of work, and I’m ready. This body of mine, she’s been tortured and ostracized for far too long. It’s time she and Sacha merge in my heart to be a sacred temple. My strength, my light – the force by which I’m able to have this out-of-body moments, travel the cosmos, and come back home.
I’m at a Starbucks in Laguna Hills. I’m waiting for Z to come and share my happiness. We’re having dinner at a PCH restaurant in a few shakes with his business peeps. I’m a part of couple now. It’s a little surreal. All this love.
