Looking at my other body modifications I can't help but wonder why I did them when I did. My raison d'etre for this latest one is becoming a little clearer as I analyse my current emotional predicament. Even though the seed was planted a while ago it took until here and now to finally poke its head above ground. Tattooing and piercing myself was a fight for recognition of my individuality my mind's way of showing the viewing world what it was thinking, manifested in design iconology and studded wonderment. Poking and painting doesn't evoke much of anything anymore unless, like me, you happen to reside in a country like Japan, which has a long and antagonistic history with tattoos and tattooed people (bad, bad men).
At A Glance Author ferg/bizarroboy Contact bizarroboy@graffiti.net IAM bizarroboy When A week ago Artist Eizo Mamiya Studio Noon Location Tokyo - Japan
Scarring is a different matter altogether. The associations with mental instability and illness are plentiful as I found out with something as innocuous as the small self-scarification on my hand and the 2 small, horizontal lines I had a good friend of mine gently carve into the side of my face.
Branding fits into that category well although not as closely related because it's much easier to grab a knife or a razor blade when you feel the urge than it is to organise a strike branding or plug in a cautery pen (if you have one!) and the average person I've been sounding out can't get over their image of cows and cowboys long enough to really take me seriously. Maybe that is a good thing for the moment.
Placement is important too as with any permanent change to the aesthetics of your body, especially in relation to the societal rules you find yourself enveloped in at the time. My placement is curious is some ways as it seems to be flirting with the association attached to cutting your wrists. Scars on the underside of your wrists may bring unwanted and adverse attention.
I am striking out at my environment like a rebellious child blatantly smoking a cigarette in front of its mother. Interesting times ahead.
Pre-brand thoughts:
Learning to play the 'head game' with pain as an opponent has so far been a long and arduous journey for me. I don't actively seek painful experiences but I accept them as a necessary element for my body modifications. I can take a certain amount of pain from a tattoo gun, piercing needle or scalpel blade but this cautery pen branding is going to blow away all of my previous notions of hurt I imagine. It is scaring me but it is exhilarating me at the same time. I'm loathe to think of it in this way but a little part of my psyche is hoping that the intense discomfort induced by the branding iron will eradicate some of the emotional pain that has been infiltrating the usual dis-equilibrium that is life as I know it. This is not a positive premise on which to get body modifications in my opinion. It will only mask what is troubling you underneath and this will have to be dealt with at a later date anyway.
I got the train to Tokyo and tried to block out the impending (by all accounts) excruciatingly painful experience that was awaiting me. I kept trying to liken the sensation I had been reading about, in my head to one that I had already experienced personally so as to prepare my mind. I found that I had forgotten the real sensations and replaced them with vague recollections instead. Not to worry...well not too much.
We arrived at Noon and Eizo was busy; running in and out trying to placate the 'bread and butter' navel piercing girls that littered his office. In my rudimentary Japanese I heard their apprehension about getting their cutesy little, brown navels pierced and adorned with a cutesy, sparkling, gem stone bananabell so indicative of Japanese culture. I'm surprised no-one has thought of making a Hello Kitty one! I wanted to tell them "you think that's going to hurt?! Shit, I'm getting branded in a minute!" but I quenched my urge and smiled knowingly instead.
30 minutes later and what seemed like 30 High School girls later it was time to rumble. My friend (who was there to video the whole procedure and take some photos) and I followed Eizo into the room at the end of the corridor and sat down. He spoke mostly in Japanese throughout the whole time with my friend translating and me transcending.
The area was cramped and I was surrounded by books, tattoo ink and all sorts of what appeared to me as junk but I'm sure Eizo doesn't think that. With my arms outstretched and in a supine position, resting on the tops of my thighs he began to draw centre lines and mark the area where the branding would begin. It was at this point my hands really began to get sweaty for I had been remarkably calm and sweat-free up to this juncture. I had chosen to have 4 wide arrowheads pointing downwards on my inner forearms towards my hands. I got the idea from my old Aikido instructor in Scotland many years ago. He had likened the flow of 'ki' (your body's innate energy) to that of water gushing out of a hose (your arm) and exiting where your hand is. The arrow designs are how I imagined the 'ki' flowing down my 'hose'. I was also told by a famous medium in Scotland that my energy is all in my hands so it seemed like a good marriage of ideas. As my arms are not the same length or size it took a while to get the symmetry correct and after a bit of fine-tuning we were ready to go. He plugged in the small cautery pen, put on his gloves, cleaned my arms and wiped the end of the element with a tissue.
Nervous anticipation filled the air like a dark cloud. I was sweating a lot now and realising that all the reading of other people's experiences of the pain and discomfort they felt was not really helping me now. I took a deep breath, tensed up and waited for the initial decisive strike.
Usually I like to watch my modifications being performed but I couldn't watch this one. With a curt "ready?" we were off and I felt the first searing transfer of red hot heat to my pale, soft skin. As I fought the overwhelming urge to pull my arm away from the inflictor of pain I shouted out a loud "Fuuuuuuck"; my only release. I really was unprepared for this kind of agony and it disheartened me to know that this was just the first small strike of many that I would have to endure in the next 20 minutes. My cameraman friend of course was having trouble containing his laughter at my expense. I glanced at him as the second strike burnt through my skin and wished him the pain I was currently feeling...with a bit extra, just for laughing at me.
It's hard to describe exactly what the sensation feels like, as everyone's pain threshold is different. Try to think of something very hot and very intense. The pressure from the element pushing down onto my skin only lasted for approximately a second but the pain shoots through up your arm and bursts out the top of your head. I had just recovered from the shock long enough to shout some profanity into the air when it was time for the next one. Heat, pain, shout, heat, pain, shout, heat, pain, shout....and so it continued. I think as an attempt to calm me or just to make me feel less weak, Eizo told me the story of a huge, muscular guy he once branded on the ankle who had to keep stopping and eventually broke down in tears from the distress. Being a svelte young thing bereft of anything muscular this made me feel like the big, brave soldier who didn't cry that my parents were always talking about when I was a child. So soldier on I did.
Fortunately for me the cautery pen element was only used in short, sharp applications. It was pressed onto my skin, allowed to burn through it, removed and then wiped with a tissue. I had assumed that this kind of branding would be done like drawing from a normal pen, but thankfully it wasn't. Any respite from the charring of my arm was welcomed.
He continued and I endured, listening intently as I heard my skin bubble, crackle then vapourize, smelling the very distinctive smoke which was drifting into my nostrils, trying not to swear as much and attempting to get my face into as many photos as I could without disturbing Eizo's work. With one arm done it was too late to stop. This was a part of my body that wanted symmetry so I wiped my brow and I nodded for the other arm to be scorched.
The branding procedure took approximately 20 minutes. In total I ended up having about 50 applications from the branding element. I looked at my new arms with a warm feeling of achievement (well everything was warm at this point!). I scrutinised the marks and asked Eizo to redo a few parts I thought needed evening-up. As my shoulders tensed again in preparation for more temperature I realised that the nerves had been completely burnt away. I could feel the sensation of having something pressing against my arm but no feeling of heat at all. It was very peculiar and reminiscent of having been injected with a local anaesthetic. All done.
After the slight feeling of light-headedness had subsided when I stood up we chatted about BME and BME-related stuff for 10 minutes. By the time I had paid him for the privilege my wounds had hardened and I was told that as it's a burn then there was no need for any special cleaning requirements just yet. I have to be careful though with the risk of infection being greater if I start to tear at my scabs. The more open and bloody the wound the more chance of getting some nasty bacteria in there. It is in the following 1 or 2 months of aggravation that I need to be most watchful.
I write this experience not even 24 hours after my branding. Initially my arms were a little swollen around the brands (naturally) but that disappeared fairly soon after. I was alert enough to sink about 6 or 7 beers in the next 3 hours and didn't feel any ill-effects at all although I DON'T recommend this as part of your healthy approach to healing. As with my hand scars I will soak my arms and remove the scabs that way, hopefully about 2 or 3 times a week, with a toothbrush and surgical soap, being careful not to scrub too hard as the surrounding skin becomes decayed too and this can result in you losing the line definition that was so painfully sought originally.
The following week (1st 8th)
It is now the 8th of June exactly one week after I got my brands. I have moved with uncertainty into the land of extraordinary itchiness.
The following is a day-by-day account of what happened during that week.
2nd June I scrubbed the brands while in the bath to break away the burnt and melted skin and clean up the ragged edges. It is very strange but not wholly unobvious to have bits of my arms with no sensation in them. Of course as the cautery pen effortlessly descended through skin it sealed off the ends of my blood vessels and nerves as it went. What's left now is a beautifully pearly white trough in my arms where the branding iron once was that has no feeling at all. I'm wondering how that is going to manage to scab over.
3rd June My arms are looking a little angry today, the area in between the brands, which is usually porcelain white, has decided to colour itself a healthy, fire engine red today. Even though I'm not experienced when it comes to burn management I am adequately sanguine about the whole thing. No scabs yet. Sadly though all of my immediate friends are suddenly voicing their concerns that along with doing something stupid like this I have also conspired to cause my arms to become infected and fall off. Some of them have already drawn very tenuous parallels to mental illness and others who have evidently thought long and hard before speaking spouted forth such memorable quotes as "you're a freak", "you've lost it" and "what's wrong with you man, when is it going to be enough for you?" Enlightenment seems such a long way away right now.
4th June Things are much the same as yesterday if not a little less red. Some scab tissue has begun to form in the brands. It is a sickly mustard colour and it is getting crusty. One lady in a green tea shop almost fell over when she looked at my arms. I haven't seen such a bewildered facial expression for a long time!
5th June More scabs.
6th June The itching has started already and my arms have begun to swell a little around the branded area. The edges of the troughs have also started to thicken up with a deep red colour. The healing seems to be going well. I have been trying to aggravate them as little as possible although I have to keep them covered all day as I teach. The long sleeves tickle me and only seem to exacerbate the itch. In the morning I gently wash them with surgical soap, pat them dry, trying not to loosen any of the moist scab tissue and cover them with some herbal tea tree cream. At night they get lightly washed again and covered with Bepanthen antiseptic cream. So far so good.
7th June I can't do justice to the feeling of relief this morning I had in the shower. The rapid descent into 'ITCHY HELL' started yesterday and hasn't abated through the night or this morning. It truly is unbelievably all-consuming. Standing in the shower this morning with the warm water cascading down onto my arms I saw Heaven, just for a fleeting moment. The sense of joy I got can only be likened to 2 things in my life that maybe have come close to this unique, unrivalled sensation: (1) a thoroughly deserved, particularly satisfying bowel movement I had after taking diahorrea medicine then trekking the Machu Picchu trail for 4 days. (2) pushing a cotton bud into my ear and finally getting the pesky wax out that was blocking my ear passage for the previous 6 days. This truly is a test of resilience sent by the Gods. For some reason the whole area surrounding the brands has started to swell a little more and become pinker. This may be due to the fact that it is approaching 11pm but I must admit I'm a wee bit concerned about this. I sincerely hope that there is no infection lurking under my crusty, yellow scabs. The pink skin is slightly harder to the touch than my normal skin and there is a very clear defining line between the swollen pink part and the normal white part.
8th June Going through all of this trauma has cast serious doubts on my ability or desire to remove the scabs and have the whole process prolonged for another 6 weeks or so longer than it would have been naturally. I don't think the scars will be that much bigger or better to be honest as my brands are actually deeper than I had first thought. Maybe I'm using this as justification for not putting myself through this misery again who knows. I just want it to stop. The whole underside of my forearms is slightly swollen now and constantly deep pink in colour. As the scabs dry out they pull on your arms every time you stretch or make an extended movement, alerting you to the fact that they itch like Hell (not that you are ever not aware of this). Hopefully I'm over the worst of it now.
Intense, excruciating, electric, melting fry-fodder.
ferg/bizarroboy