what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

beautiful
adj.
1. having qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc. delighting the senses or mind
2. excellent of its kind
3. having perfection of form, color, etc. or noble or spiritual qualities, often implying stateliness or pleasing proportion and symmetry, exciting aesthetic admiration
4. that which is in the eye of the beholder

i've slowly been integrating myself into the body modification community up here in portland, ever since the day when i went with my friend *lw* to adorn body art so she could get a lovely sternum piercing. i crooned over the finished masterpiece, sighing about how i've always wanted my nostril pierced.

"so get it," she said.

i blinked at her. "what?" so my mental acuity was on par with an earthworm that day. i'm intelligent, i swear. she just surprised me.

she shrugged. "get it. what's stopping you?"

"i can't." it was automatic.

"why?" said our piercing god.

"who's stopping you?" she said.

i took a breath to answer, and it just kind of died in my throat. she leaned against the chair, smiling at me while i stood there with my mouth hanging open just waiting for words to magically spill out from between my lips. i blinked, and in the time it took to blink i thought of all the people who had been the reasons i hadn't done what i've always wanted. the bio-mother, fear of death at the hands of the bio-dad, the ex-husband, my white-collar straight-laced friends i'd kept from high school who'd never understand.

the minutes stretched. godsmack was playing in the background.

"why, absolutely no one." i grinned. she mirrored it. within minutes our piercing god was reclining the chair so i could lie down, and there was needles and jewelry and poly-pro gloves and much laughing. at the first punch of the needle i squealed an "ow!" and then dissolved into a heap of giggles.

"aha," said our piercing god. "you're one of those girls. i see..."

since then, i've gotten seven more perforations, my stretched earlobes being a work in progress. i dream of getting the corset piercings down my back, looking somewhat like the picture above. but that's not even the half of it. i have designs and plans for the brand-and-ink sleeve i want for my left arm, microdermals, and eventually...suspension.

people ask me why, usually with either morbid curiosity or aversion. sometimes (rarely, 'cause this is portland) downright disgust. usually i smile, shrug, and say, "why not? i like it." the body is a temple, and who wants to worship in a temple where the walls are bare? sometimes i stand naked in front of the mirror, and all i can see is all this wonderful, blank canvas. but honestly, between you and me, i do it because with each new body mod, i see more and more of the real me emerge. each new piece is like peeling away another masking layer, revealing the real me beneath.