mended and mending

Part 1
I'm returning from my two week plus journey to the bay area (SF, SC, SF and Oakland) and I'm filled with gratitude and joy. YAY. I'm not even going to spend much time on this, because really it's beyond language. But let's just say, I love sunshine and the familiarity of place and I LOVE my friends. Holy shit. I am so fucking lucky to have the friends I have. Not only are they awesome, beautiful, smart, funny and all around interested and good people, but they love me! AMAZING. So cheers for good friends and interlocking Venn Diagram Co-Ops located somewhere between Los Angeles and Santa Cruz...

PART 2
My last morning in Santa Cruz I got the "mend" tattoo I've been planning for some time now. the letters stand for each of my members of my immediate family (matthew, erin, nancy and dean) but of course it also a shout out to fiber arts (hey!) and a reference to the upkeep of self, the healing of wounds large and small, and like all tattoos (and piercings) for me, a reminder to live in the moment.
It's interesting because my tattoo is itself a wound, one that is currently scabby and itchy as it heals. It's good to watch intently as my body heals itself (even from self-inflicted hurts) and to know that I work. That I can and do heal. I want my tattoo to be all healed already. I want it to stop itching and be all smooth and scab-less and pretty, but all I can do is wait. It can't be rushed. I just have to be patient and take care of myself the best I can.
A pretty apt metaphor if you ask me.
So this morning I am washing my wounds, even those - or especially those - without physical manifestations. I am gently cleansing with soap, rinsing, patting dry, applying cocao butter and taking care. The rest is up to time.
And Jesus. (Hi Erica.)