Bless Tane

So, finally, I got the nerve and the energy to go see Tane. I was afraid I'd interrupt him in the midst of a session, but he was just drawing on a guy. Said guy was happy to speak. He's covered in tatau and used to be in the Navy, so we got along well. I asked him if he had any available spots because I may soon be leaving the city. We settled on tomorrow evening. 

Hopoe's tatau, on my arm. Covering the scars. The radial artery I tried to cut twice.

I had some tea with him, and then he went back to drawing on the guy. He said I could stay. The guy was getting a massive calf tattoo, and Tane was doing his freehand on him, precise, meticulous. We talked for a while, but most of the time, I talked with the dude about his marine memories, overseas territories, and lots of other stuff. I only left when I felt hungry enough that I needed to eat, and I found out it was almost 1pm. I had spent a good hour and a half there. Time goes fast in Tane's studio.

Then, I started typing out the whole Hopoe story. It took me two hours, but I finally sent him the whole thing... and this is the first time I told anyone, at all, without getting mute or into fragments. For sure, it's easier to write. But to send it to someone is incredibly vulnerable. And I think Tane, with his lack of words, is not the one who would judge me.

There's a reason why I find him to be the safe person to do this tattoo, anyway. 

He told me that my friend, who was his student, would come to his studio every lunch to watch him draw and tattoo. I guess I should not fear disturbing. Tane himself doesn't feel uneasy about people being there, but the client can. Especially girls. 

Maybe I should do it again sometime, just to chill there, with no words. In a sense, he reminds me of Esme. No words needed, just... presence. 

I love those kinds of people.