Tattoo

There was a time when I thought a Japanese Yakuza (Mafia) tattoo would look quite nice... My name - NI - KI.

Now, please concentrate. Some people are terribly afraid of numbers. This is not a story just about numbers, nor for that matter, just one of letters. Neither is it a story about dogma in any form. It is simply a story of liberation. Trust me - I know what I am talking about. Now, if you would be so kind, please pay attention, and do not be afraid.

'KI' is TREE.

And in Japanese picture alphabet letters - called Kanji - it looks like one tree too... a Japanese character, one line vertical, and two lines like arms, wings or branches. Meaning: Tree.

'NI' is TWO

'NI'- 'KI' therefore, if you have been paying attention, means: TWO TREES, and I look like one too. 

If I were to add one more 'KI', I would have a picture of a WOOD. Three tree symbols, in a triangle, in Japanese picture alphabet, makes a wood; but that, is a story for another day.

Back to my Tattoo. I thought I would wear it on my sleeve, for doves to peck at. I could have gone from home at The Archway, down Hollywood Road, to Tattoo Artist, Mr Hod, but part of this story, is of how urban myths appeared, and scared me off:

Fiction is truth. It is often used for revenge, but if one writes the truth from beneath ones very own two feet, without malice, but for some better purpose, the truth remains, the fiction appears, and the malice is only there for eyes which believe that truth is malice. Personally, I have always believed that eating truth is the best food of all. It is organic, it is rich; granted it can give one indigestion, but the truth is the truth is the truth, and let's face it - as my Grandmother used to say: if you don't want to eat, then don't go to the kitchen. If you want to be (and she had a soft German accent) De Queen of De Nile – then – don't go to feed on the truth. Denial is a necessary thing. We all use it every day to survive. But, go hungry for too long and illness is sure to find you. She also says something about hands and fire, but I wish she would just keep smiling, and shut up about that... So this, is a true story. It is completely harmless though - I promise - it is like eating an apple - simple as that.

Let us return to the Tattoo Parlour at the Archway end of Hollywood Road. (It is actually Holloway Road, but the locals really do call it Hollywood Road, in an ironic manner, because it really is a very rough, tough, ugly neighbourhood. I originally posted this story without revealing this fact about the road name change, because I wanted to protect the anonymity of Mr Hod, the Tattoo Artist, and his lovely wife. But, some of my local students at the time, knew the place, and had already heard the urban legends I am about to tell you, and were naturally intrigued, but fortunately no slander or libel lawsuits ensued, on that particular occasion.) However, I still, and always will, write true stories: and these two examples are a couple of urban myths that I heard, the very same night that I was going to go and get my Tattoo. A woman wanted 'ADDICTIVE' inscribed at the top of her inner thigh. Hod wrote, 'ACTIVE' and made her cry. And another true story - a man, in love with himself; in love with himself and The Lie; wanted Hod, upon his head, to fancifully inscribe: 'HEART, STRENGTH, AND PRIDE', but Hod misread and couldn't lie, picked up the Needle and wrote: 'ONE VERY UGLY, GUY'

I went in that night, and asked him to write 'HIRSCH OF TWO TREES' in code: You see, my family name is HIRSCH. The meaning in German for 'Hirsch' is 'Deer'.

So, in effect, there it is: DEER (for Hirsch) and TWO-TREE, for Ni-ki = HIRSCH OF TWO TREES, my tattoo.

Let me explain how this works. If one adds the letters up (and there is good reason for this – which I hope will become clear: in fact, let me explain right now: As you will see in the next paragraph, the name HIRSCH is a long list of numerical digits, and so looks very much like a concentration camp number, and who wants one of those on their arm?) A equals 1. B equals 2. And so on. Just to make this easier to understand H for Hirsch equals 8. Think about it. Count, if you wish.

The number for HIRSCH (8=H , 9=I, 18=R ,19=S, 3=C, 8=H.) adds up to: trust me: 65. Then add again, the 6 + the 5, to equal 11, symbolising two single pillars of salt, strength, love, knowledge, and earth. And then, from 11, down again 1 + 1, finally arriving at the binary power number 2. Remember - 'NI' - Japanese for 2, and there you have mirrored, half of my tattoo.

Plus the KI, and there it is: NI-KI – TWO TREES or HIRSCH TREE or DEER TREE. I hope that you have understood this. But if not, don't worry, it's not that important and shouldn't completely destroy your enjoyment of the tale. So:

By this insane, but perfectly logical process, this is how I settled on the desired shape of my tattoo - simply NI-KI - my name, in Japanese Kanji, which looks like two trees, too.

Now, HOD can be a little uneven. Just look what happened to the Addict, and the Very Ugly Guy. For some reason, there was a glint in his eye that day which made me know to look and turn away. Mr Hod watches us make ourselves an artist's mask or muse. This is just opinion, but he watches us dither to draw either a heart or another self-inflicted wound. When balancing the needle, Mr Hod never mocks or is confused. We ring the bell, all he asks for is a No or a Yes - Mr Hod, is a little like me: He is a bit thick, just an intellect, but not cruel and a pillar of the community, nevertheless.

I don't suppose all of you will have met his box clever wife? A pillar-box of the community, she's all heart and brings balance to their life. On that night, I had the good fortune to sit with her a while; talk, apply lotions, drink teas which she called potions, and it was a strong, condensed, organic time of my life. I'll explain because I have the proof, as I'm a little like her, just like you are too. I, like you, have always had one head and many hats - and she, has many names and just, for a split second, one face. It is possible to research her identity at a library, on the street, or on line. The most common of all her names, that gives anyone remotely interested in the truth a very simple starting point, is Venus; but as I said, she comes with changing faces, and many, many names, just like you do.

And Hod, he too, has one head and many hats. One of his hats, is just like mine, made from mercury and a clear, clear blue; and interestingly enough, Mr Hod, the Tattoo Artist, like me, has not one single tattoo. It was that night, she saw me coming in alone - and in the moonlight, she suggested I go home, to The Archway end of Hollywood Road. Mr Hod, nodded, because he knew that this was truth. His business was done for the evening, with the Addict and The Ugly Guy, and he wanted nothing more, so he put his needle in his pocket, looked at his wife, and simply opened the door.