It was the year 2000, and the heat of the summer had not yet come to reach us as quickly as the frustrations of summer school had to the people around me.. Freedom was in my hands, and as my independence grew with the fact that there were no responsibilities to withhold, my birthday was also creeping upon me.. I was in need of something new.. I was in need of something pierced.. For months the attraction between me and labret piercings had been running through my body, and one night (in an induced passion) I decided to throw all doubts away and get it done. I asked myself this: what was fifteen seconds of pain compared to years of personal satisfaction? And I began to wonder what had kept me back for so long. My friend Sean said he would pierce it for me, but I'd seen his handi-work and I was not particularily up to it.. He pressed the matter, and I almost agreed many times, but my common sense was always there, holding me back.
At A Glance Author [maktiel] Contact maktiel@excite.com Artist Jeff Barns Studio New Image Tatoo and Piercing Studio Location Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada In the car with my mother one foggy morning I brought the subject up with her. I simply stated the facts: I was going to get my labret pierced, and if she didn't consent then Sean would pierce it for me. I told her the risks of Sean's dirty pin going through my skin, and the thoroughness of my determination. Needless to say, the thought of someone piercing her only daughter's lip with a dirty needle brought about no ambiguity to her consent in getting it professionally done. She even offered to pay for it as a birthday present. What luck! I could hardly believe my ears at the sound of her voice when I detected not a trace of anger in it.
My instability and nervousness that I would admit to no one required me to seek out one or more people to join me in my little venture into the world of steel. I immediately thought of Luke, who shares my fatal labret attractions but would never thinking of getting it pierced.. Arrangements were made, and in less than a week I would be going to New Image Tattoo and Piercings.
It was a warm June day, and I awoke with an impatience I could hardly contain (especially for a Wednesday). This was the day.. The plan was to go uptown, meet Luke and Jill after they finished summer school and then head over to Wizards where Luke would be getting his tattoo. We were both feeling the itch of summertime rebellion, and made plans to get tattooed and pierced on the same day. We spent the next two hours in the company of a rather revolting nazi who was, quite fortunately, good at his job. He did some excellent work on Luke, but all I was really thinking was for them to hurry up.. Finally we were off again..
New image is a bare, ugly looking box from the outside, and the gravel rolled and crunched under my feet. Each sound it made was suddenly having an effect on my stomach.. I do not relish upon pain, but I had made up my mind.. Suddenly we were inside the box, welcomed with fake plants and too much light for the comfort of my eyes. Stark, clean, and resembling a hospital waiting room. They were quite kind, and explained exactly what would happen, what every instrument was sterilized with, and what exactly each instrument did. I sat in the chair. Tall, like the throne of God in his lesser days. The piercer, Jeff, was very quiet and courteous. He marked under my lip with a purple marker where he was going to pierce, but I was not satisfied. Too low.. Then it was too high... we had to be careful not to pierce too low because I play the trombone, and wouldn't want to aggravate it.. Finally, the mark seemed in a satisfactory area.. Lower than most people, but not too low to look foolish.. Jeff asked if I was ready.. I grabbed Luke's hand, closed my eyes, and waited. I felt my lip being grabbed, clamped, and pressure being applied. I held my ground as a sensation I had never experienced before went rushing through my mouth. I'm not sure whether to jump back in pain, or sit still in pleasure. In such a moment, my premiere piercing, my first experience, my introduction to a new level of teenage life, of metal-bearing individuality: all I could say was Jesus.. "Hold still and don't talk" was the response from the ever-polite piercer, Jeff. Then it was over.. I opened my eyes.. The room seemed somehow brighter.. I walked out, not daring to utter a word. My face was numb.. We left in silence, their advice on cleaning the area properly barely fading in the my ears..
Shoppers Drug Mart. Listerine. Liquid antibacterial soap. Jill and Luke making me laugh because they knew it killed me. The afternoon was dying into evening, and the deed had been done..
The healing process went much better than expected.. The swelling wasn't too bad at first, I could eat properly, and it still has never gotten infected.. after three weeks I could easily take it out and put others in.. My labret has become a part of my face, and i could not picture my face without it..