At DRIP we throw a lot of paint around. By the time the show is over it is all over the audience, the floor, and especially the cast and crew. On this particular day I had gotten splashed with a healthy dose of red and blue.
The red landed on my skin first, followed by blue, which took the same path as red. The colors mixed creating blurry purple lines. Most of the time I get covered in paint it just becomes spots of color. But this time it morphed into beautiful markings.
I examined it in the mirror. At first it looked like a wild bruise or veins just under the surface of my skin. It also reminded me of a jellyfish sting or those intricate lace-like burn patterns some people get after being struck by lightning. I looked down at my arm again. Everything reminded me of horrible injuries and yet I still thought the marks on my arm were beautiful.
That night was actually our sixth month anniversary of having opened the show. I have been with DRIP for about six years - almost since the beginning. I thought of all the hard work I put in and the criticism I have endured from friends and family who didn't understand why I would follow such a crazy dream. All of those things could have easily broken someone else, but they never broke me. And the beautiful markings on my arm became a reminder that all I have survived makes me a more stunning and interesting person.
The paint washes easily off my skin in the shower. But I would gladly wear these markings over and over again.