Etch-a-sketch

It has been half an hour, 40 minutes maybe, or an hour. Time has been hopelessly thrown out of loop. Outside on the staircase to the shop, Watkins and the prospective customer who was observing are savoring a post-cutting smoke.

The scarification was bloodier than the customer had expected; he figured it would be a clean, quick-snip affair in the manner of TV surgery. Forget about the one-sitting back design; he would start a little smaller. Watkins, though, is already planning more: characters on his other arm and on his thighs, and "love," which consists of 13 strokes, on his back.

He's feeling "fuzzy" right now. The cutting induced a floating sensation, he says, a rush that fades to something similar to an alcohol buzz. "I'll probably be in la-la land for the rest of the day," he says with a smile.

By the next day the carved lines already will have begun to scab over. To ensure that scar tissue forms, Watkins can pick at the scabs to irritate the skin. In a month the cuts will be completely healed, provided that Watkins keeps his arm clean to avoid infection. By then, he will probably be back for more. He's not just an experiment in progress, but an ongoing canvas of art, a remaking of himself in a way that nature never intended, or at least never dared.