A Blue Fish

I want to draw a fish.

Specifically, a blue fish that is swimming. I don’t know what species it is – I am not an expert in fish. I want it long, slim, slender – with glimmering blue over its skin, with wavy, graceful long tail that curves in the clear water.

I want to draw it on a piece of paper. After that, I’ll transfer it to my skin – on my hand, from my wrist and flows to below the first joint in the middle of the thumb. It will be permanent.

But the fish will not realise just yet. With the doubt that’s growing in me, the pain and reluctance that’s creeping back, the fish has no foundation to born on. The medium is not ready. The fish has to wait, here with me.


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