So, what can I say about the period between now and my last substantive blog? Well, not very much really. Life has been good, but it’s also been quiet. I’m not sure that one following the other has been much of a coincidence.

I’ve been working back in London now for about a month, and am loving every minute of it. The job I do isn’t, on paper, discernibly different from what I left behind in Hertfordshire. Yet there’s a definite shift in the type of cases I now handle, and my workload has exploded. I’m enjoying the challenge of this, and being pushed (insofar as any civil servant can pushed). Overtime – something which previously needn’t concern me all that much – is now the norm. But again, I think this is positive. I don’t get paid nearly enough to worry about what I do once I leave the office, and I don’t get paid for overtime either, but I’m deriving no small pleasure from feeling as if my employer is getting their money’s worth. And it will take a while before the novelty of walking down Victoria Street and spying the London Eye on my way to the office will wear thin.

I’ve added to my left sleeve since the last blog as well. In my protracted efforts to somehow connect my tattoos together visually and thematically, there are a number of elements to it. The most obvious is the bird, which should be a crow. I’ll let ornithologists confirm that. Featured on my script sleeve is a reference to a line from Othello; “And I shall wear my heart upon my sleeve for Daws to peck at” A daw being the slightly archaic word for crow. So in my head at least the inclusion of a bird makes peeerrffect sense.


The stamp in the crow’s mouth is probably the most personal element of this phase of my sleeve. I love proper post. I don’t send out as much as I’d like at the moment, but I know that I’ll get back into the swing of it soon enough. And I love receiving it. I’m very lucky that those people who correspond with me via postcards or letters from Quack the gnome have been those I’ve met through this site. Their thoughtfulness is a wonderful reminder of the impact this community has had on my life. The community has drifted away from SuicideGirls in recent months, but its still as strong in other parts of the internet and even more so in real life. I have discovered ballet because of you, I may be living with former members in a month or two, because of you. I have rediscovered my sense of self and individuality because of you and, in moments of crisis, its been you that have seen me through it.

The heart in the centre of the stamp reflects both my love of post and my love of love letters. Depending on how far back you’ve followed my blog, you should know that I’m quite fond of writing them. I have yet to have a positive response to these, and its been an age since I received one myself (now that would be manna for the soul), but I remain unperturbed. I am, for better of for worse, a romantic. The bleeding heart on my right arm is placed in such a way to remind me and everyone who gets the visual pun that I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I’m candid to a fault – too open often for my own good. But I believe more than ever that life is too short to worry about safety nets. I love intensely, and I no longer worry about hiding the fact. If I meet someone who can’t deal with that intensity, then I quite understand, but I believe a life of coyness and reticence and restraining oneself is a life half-lived. How much energy do we expend shackling our secret desires when they threaten to spill recklessly from our lips? It’s energy wasted. I chose the heart to remind me to be bold. Write the letters, articulate the desire, remember Amelie Poulin and damn the consequences. If, one of these days, those consequences are positive…well, that would be grand. But, regardless, it is an honest life. It is hard to maintain friendships when essential things go unsaid. Better to lose the friendship than continue on the basis of a lie, or continue the friendship on a foundation of equality. I’ve lost more in my life from the strain of silence than I ever have from the added weight of expression. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realise it.

The key is a very slight (I’d go for subtle, but I think that’s being too kind) nod to one of my favourite novels, The Incredible Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. The protagonists of Michael Chabon’s exemplary novel are two brothers. The story chronicles their life alongside the ‘Golden Age’ of American comics. They become key figures in this movement, inventing a character called ‘The Escapist’, who was later featured in a comic spin-off in his own right. So the three prongs should (note my reliance on this word) spell out the letter ‘E’, representing The Escapist’s insignia.

The red ribbon was purely chosen for the hell of it.

Oh, an I also treated myself to a quite ridiculous jacket. Part Michael Jackson, part Adam Ant and (hopefully) part Harry Flashman. It is also - for better or worse - entirely me.

Never be afraid of making a fool of yourself, I say. Again, lead an honest life – and if an honest life means revealing a rather dubious sense of taste, well so be it. If only I could grow a waxed moustache, or had need to wear an eyepatch!