The knives

 I owe a special thank-you to Steve for letting me use his knives for a pattern. They were his Dad's and have special meaning to him, therefore making the gift of sharing them even more precious to me.

The knife on the right is his kitchen knife....he used it to cut the date bread that Suanne shared with us. Ya gotta love a man that uses a dirk for his kitchen knife!

Tattoo You

Well, there you have it. I've wanted to for a long time, and promised myself i'd do it this trip out. I am so glad I did it.

I am camped in the desert west of Vegas with a bunch of other vandwellers. One of the guys mentioned he wanted to go check out tattoos, and that was all it took. We enlisted Steve to go for moral support and because he has the most awesome knife collection ever. He very graciously allowed me to borrow 2 of my favorites....a dirk and a kukri (curved gurkha knife) to use for a pattern.

We set out to visit the 3 parlors Bob knew of in pahrump. It's alot of fun going anywhere with these guys (we made a trip to Vegas on saturday to buy ammo, but that's another blog post) because it's takes a bit of choreography to get 3 humans and their 3 dogs into the rondyvan. The dogs particularly do a bit of circling and jockying for a spot, but they have established a comfortable pack relationship here in the desert, so it works out well.

The first place we stopped was Outlaw Johnny's. I was a little overwhelmed at first, looking at all the amazing artwork on the walls, because in all those impressive tattoos, I didn't see one thing that I would have wanted on my skin. I had an idea what I wanted, but had no words to describe it.

They introduced me to Sparky. He was young and serious looking. He, too, had this great artwork all over him....not one of which was like what was in my brain. I began to have second thoughts. I showed him the knives, which he touched and looked at for a long time.

Then Sparky picked up a pencil and quickly began to put onto paper a rough sketch. I knew immediately that that was my tattoo, and he was my tattoist. I made an apppointment for the next day. Bob got one for the same time with Outlaw Johnny. It was finally gonna happen.

I began to worry again later that night, this time about colors. I didn't see many of the colors on the walls at Outlaw Johnny's that were the colors I wanted. Matter of fact, the only place you could see the colors that touch my heart were in the desert, and the sunset. Early in the morning I called, and Johnny reassured me I could get the colors I wanted. But how to describe them? At the last minute, I grabbed some rocks in various shades of red and orange and gold from the wooden bowl on my dashboard.

I felt silly showing the rocks to Sparky, but he didn't hesitate. He put them on the workstand, and then took the knives from me again. As he ran his hands over them, paying particular attention to the blade of the kukri with his fingertips, all doubt left me. i knew he was seeing the knives the way i saw them, with all their spirit and positive energy. i was about to get the best tattoo i could have gotten anywhere in the world.

Practical concerns were dealt with as i watched Sparky set up the equipment and the work field. the nurse in me, with my acute attention to all things germy, was impressed. all the critical parts of the process were disposable, and i was shown the expiration dates and the integrity of the packaging. with the final drawing completed and my little pile of rocks next to his paint pots, he began.

it didn't hurt. I was surprised, because I have such sensitive skin. It was cool to watch him create this image on my arm in all of the colors of the sunset of the night before, when I had said to someone in camp, only half joking, "wherever Sparky is, I hope he's watching this sunset". He must have been. The knives showed the glint of steel and the patina of age and use, just like the real ones. It didn't take that long (or I was too absorbed to notice the passing of time) until it was over. i couldn't stop smiling, i loved it so much.

much gratitude to Sparky, Outlaw Johnny, and the crew. you made my first tattoo a memorable experience. and thanks to Bob for sharing it all with me....neither of us squeeling even a little bit :-)

did you notice i said "first tattoo"? on my way out, on the wall by the door, was a chinese character that depicts the word "drifter"....upper left arm maybe? i'll see ya again soon, Sparky....

twokniveskatie Part 1

i have always loved tools. tools for building, tools for fixing. tools for growing food, and for hunting it . for tilling the land and making cloth and healing broken bodies. for making fire and music and food. and tools for making tools.

at some point, a fascination for sharp things was born. i picked up a throwing knife that fit my hand with perfect weight and balance. although i held it in my hand, i felt it's weight in my belly, down deep where primitive things are born. it connected with my feral side.....i was hooked.

when you think about it, a knife is a tool that can be used for most of the tasks mentioned above. if i had to choose one thing to be stranded with, it would be a knife. you can make shelter, get food, and protect yourself.

the pictures above are two favorites. the cold steel bushman and the gerber backpacking axe. the bushman is a workhorse with many uses. it has a hollow handle, and can be made a spear. (watch out, boys). it is most always next to me.

above are some of my favorites smaller knives. lower left is one made from a trap spring. it is probably the sharpest knife i own. center is a braintanned quilled sheath whose flint knife is no longer with me. i love the sheath, and wait for a knife to fit it. next are a patch knife and a mini skean du, great little neck knives. and last a turquoise inlaid folder gifted me by friends.

these are just a few of my knives.....a prudent girl never shows all the aces up her sleeve, nor the sharp things in her boot. which leads to the next part of the story.

a group of friends who camped rendezvous together were gathered for a thanksgiving meal at a friends house. now buckskinners do love their weapons, so my buddy Hish and i were comparing ours on the table. i didn't care for guns at the time, so i had out my knife to compare to his pistol. he was extolling the virtues of his gun and my obvious disadvantage, when he grabbed my knife off the table and made pretend to draw on me with the gun. i had the second knife out of my boot and at his crotch so fast i amazed even myself, and some very impressed onlookers. i got to carve the turkey that day, and Hish said it was one of the most erotic things that ever happened to him. (next to his wife Bonnie, of course). which speaks volumes about the nature of my friends :)

so was the beginning of the legend. there is more to come, including a pirate with ill-intentions, and a man with a voice that won my heart. but that's part 2.