Gemotions

He’d almost given up. He’d almost thrown his tools away. But then, the phone call. A tattoo artist. A commission. A photo.

On the client’s back, a perfect replica of his "Phoenix Rising" sculpture, rendered in swirling black ink. He felt an intense warmth flood his chest, radiating outwards. He wanted to run, to scream, to climb the nearest mountain.

He walked over to his workbench, picking up a piece of clay. He ran his fingers over it, feeling a familiar energy course through him. He had found his purpose again. He began to work.