When I was 9 I was finally allowed to get my ears pierced. I was beyond static as I had been waiting for this moment for years.
A couple of months (or at least that's what is seems like now) my body pushed the earrings out and formed a Keloide scar (an abnormal skin growth) which ended up measuring about 1cm (and looked disgusting!!). For a pre-teen not having earrings but also having an abnormal growth on her face was not fun. It took me a couple of years to get up the courage to get them operated on, the Dr. promised me that he would make me a new hole during the operation but forgot, so here I was again in pain and earringless.
More than 10 years had to go by for me to build up the courage to get pierced (always with the fear that the Keloid scar would just grow back), thankfully it didn't... but what did happen is that all of this created a slight obsession with earrings.
15 years after my piercings finally healed and I internalized the idea of being able to wear earrings I have built up quite a collection. This collection is a reflection of all the places I have been too, of all of the people I have shared time and stories with and all of the cycles of creative urges I have been through.
I have a terrible memory, yet somehow I can go through my 200+ pairs of earrings and recall exactly where and why I bought/made them. They have been packed and transported more times than I can count.... and each time, the moment I am putting them away is the moment that I fully comprehend the significance of what is happening.
This time its Cuba
This time its as a fully fledged family with kids that understand, feel pain and suffer
This time its part of something bigger, something I can't quite explain
This time I am jumping, eyes closed and arms open, into whatever life has in stock for me... because somehow I know that it is the begging of something marvelous.
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