In early January 2001, my wife and I were surfing the net, checking out our favourite sites, when we chanced upon something that would change our lives forever. Our piercing studio, Perforations, were asking for people to submit designs which, if viable and unusual enough, would be branded free of charge! We were both immediately interested, and given that we already knew and trusted the owner and staff at the studio, felt the opportunity to have something both impressive and fairly unique to this country. We both submitted designs to Warren and waited for a response. My first design was rejected because it was a little too intricate for a brand; my wife's was in need of a little editing to make it viable. So I hunted through a paperback copy of "The Necronomicon" (the cover design for which I had already suggested) to find another design, which held the same sense of mystique for me. I settled upon "The Seal of Marratukku" and sent off the email.
At A Glance Author Puck Contact mr_puck@madasafish.com IAM Puck Artist Warren Deane Studio Perforations Location Brighton, UK This design was a much better proposition than the first; it's lines being more open. Warren by now had figured out who we were, and told us that he couldn't think of a more deserving couple. Now we had to decide who would be the first to be burnt! In the end a simple toss of a coin made our minds up for us...I was to be branded the following Sunday...
The week dragged by. I had told a few friends what was going to be happening and, for the most part, they thought I had lost the plot! This was something that none of them could get their heads around. Even so, on the night before I was to go under the flame, they all rang to wish me luck and to let them know how it went.
The journey to the studio was pretty uneventful; I had done this same trip many times before and didn't feel any apprehension about what was to come. Warren was already and waiting so, after a quick chat and a cigarette, we headed downstairs and the design was painstakingly drawn onto my back. Now, after another quick cigarette, it was time to begin.
At first the sensation from the pyrography pen was similar to the feeling of deep tattoo work. I commented on this, and Warren told me that Jon (one of the staff) had said much the same thing when his calf brands were being done. The brand felt like it was cutting gently through the skin, in fact I could feel the dermis separating as the pen strokes were applied. I really didn't think that this was going to be too difficult to deal with. Soon the first quarter of the outer circle was complete. I didn't feel at all uncomfortable as Warren began to trace the lower half of the right hemisphere. Soon though, the heat began to build up, and it became very difficult to keep still. The second quarter took twice as long as the first, and the strange thing was, it felt as though my skin was trying to push the pen away, physically pumping and puffing up to repel the attacker! Once the semi-circle was done, about forty minutes work, I stopped for a short break, and settled back into the chair for the second half of the circle to be burnt.
As Warren began to trace around the left half of the sphere I could feel the heat beginning to build up. I commented that he should ignore what I had said about it feeling like tattooing. He replied, "That's what Jon said". As the pen cut through my flesh, I could feel small pinpoints of heat dotted randomly around my back, I realised that this was the fatty cells spitting as they heated and then splashed onto my skin. By now the only thing stopping me from shouting out loud was the knowledge that, if I wanted this brand, I would have to put up with a lot more than just this. Finally the outer circle was complete, and I had been being branded for over one and a half hours!
I took another break and tried to cool my back by standing outside in the courtyard. I could feel the heat dissipating and my skin tightening up. It was time to brave the heat again.
The pen cut into the hook at the top of the glyph and I began to sweat. Could I go through with this? My mind was telling me "It's going to be okay... You'll be fine" but my body was trying at every stroke of the pen to twist and pull away from the intense heat. I had to fight against myself just to get the smallest section of the brand done. After all, there really was no turning back, and I wanted this brand so much. I began to pant to try and stop myself focusing on the pain. This caused Warren too many problems as my back was heaving with every breath, so I tried to breathe slowly and steadily, trying to concentrate on the air moving in and out of my lungs, and not on the pain. As the pen moved towards my spine the intensity of the heat became unbearable, laughably, the worst thing was that the branding not only hurt, it tickled too! I tried not to squirm in the chair, gripping tightly with my thighs so that I would not move. By now I had lost sight of who I was, I was a wounded animal, desperate to escape the pain, but Warren wouldn't let me. He just said, "If I let you walk away now, you'll hate yourself, and you'll hate me for letting you go." He was right. I gritted my teeth, relaxed into the chair once more, and as the pen touched my skin I bellowed through the pain. I sank lower and lower into my mind, dredging up every last ounce of resolve that I had in me. I was going to get through this! I was going to get this done!
As he continued I shouted and cursed, whilst within I grabbed hold of my hates and fears, wrenched them around, and stared into their faces. I had conquered my daemons at last! I shouted through the last hour until I was hoarse, but my body was no longer in charge, I had fought against my own terrors, and won. Finally the pain stopped. I looked at Warren and he smiled and turned the equipment off. I shouted and punched at the couch. I was ecstatic! Then I looked at Warren, shook his hand, and realised just how much my branding had taken out of him. He looked exhausted, but very pleased. We stopped for a few minutes to talk and then he locked up the studio, and drove me home.
I had resolved not to tell my wife about the intensity of the branding process but failed dismally. I couldn't believe how hard it was to move with the weeping scars on my back. My clothes would get stuck and tear the scabbing away, causing more discomfort. At night I cursed myself for having had my nipples pierced a few weeks before. I couldn't sleep on my back or my front, and my cartilage piercings were starting to get very sore from my sleeping on them. The following weekend was my wife's turn, and when she got back I could tell that her experience was very different to mine. Where I had had to fight all the way just to keep still, she had almost given up to the brand. We talked a lot on our different perceptions of the whole process, but agreed on one thing. Nothing could have prepared either of us for the intensity of the branding, or the discomfort of the healing process.
It is now mid-May, and my brand is a rosy pink scar. It is still spreading and the keloid hasn't yet decided whether to be raised or flat. I still get asked why I had the brand done, and to be truthful, it's hard to explain to those who ask me. What I do know is that if I could do this all over again, but with the knowledge that I have gained as a result of my branding, then I would not hesitate. Warren gave my wife and I a gift that we shall never be able to repay him for. I still don't feel as though I have thanked him properly, but one day, perhaps, I shall be able to.