photo by givemethewhip
May 11th, Pokhara, Nepal-- sometime after lunch.
The woman in that picture is handing me a bracelet made of string, carved yak bone and silver. Since that day, it's rarely been off my arm. I think I was even wearing it during the Learning Channel gig I did. You'll see it in most of the Moron Life sketches and in the rare random photo of me.
The dark stain on the larger squares has worn off against my arm, making the whole thing white, punctuated with the occasional tarnished silver. Now that I have my California tan going, it stands out against my skin sort of like the white shell necklaces do on the surfers in Hawaii.
It has this neat knot/clasp/drawstring contraption that is constantly coming loose, but not loose enough to make the thing fall off my arm. So you may notice me fiddling with the strings on the underside of my wrist occasionally.
The scar on my left arm terminates right where the bracelet crosses my wrist.
I like the bracelet. It's always there, and this is the moment that relationship started.