This month holds the anniversary of the death of one hell of a woman, and since I couldn't make it for the funeral a year ago I'm paying my respects now. In true writer fashion they'll be in ink and, from what I've heard, blood.
And after weeks of back and forth e-mail planning today I finally got my first glimpse of my first tattoo.
What do you think? If my body's a temple is this graffiti or a stain glass window?