An unidentified artist sat in a plastic box elevated three feet from the hall floor. She sat in the chair bending over intently, drawing with a mechanical pencil. Every once in a while she held it up, clicked the bottom of the pencil as if reloading lead, and watched with slight amusement as a white powder puffed from the end.

She nodded to Johnny and pointed down in front of him. A plaque reading Push Here For Intelligent Conversation was nailed above a button.

He pushed it. Uh... hello?

Hi. How are you today?



She scratched the pencil over her notebook, which Johnny couldn't see.

What are you drawing? He asked finally, pushing the button and speaking into a glass plate with holes.

Glad you asked. She held the pencil up again and clicked it. More white powder dissipated into the air. She stood and walked to the edge of the box.

Then Johnny saw. She hadn't been holding a notebook. Red swirls curved around her knees and up past the edge of her shorts. The white powder was her skin.

That's interesting.



Why don't you use someone else for your living canvas? Johnny grinned a little.

That's cheating. The girl dragged her chair over so she could talk and work at the same time.

How so? What happens if you design something and don't like it later?

That's part of it. Everything stays- these scars don't fade. If you don't like something you learn from it.



The first one I did was for a bad reason. Never, she shook one finger at him, hurt yourself for another person.



The second one was silly. The third one I did because I liked the design. That's the one I'm expanding now.

The second one was silly?

She pointed to the top of her thigh, a faint Z-like shape below her finger. It's a rune. It means death. It's just silly. If you're going to do this sort of thing you just have to have one that means death. She laughed a little.

Johnny followed the swirls. He could tell the newest curls from their various stages of healing. That one doesn't match, he said, tapping the plastic wall.

That's because that one is the first. She turned her leg so he could see the scar. It was thicker than the rest. I know it looks like a P, but it's also a rune. It means both comfort and madness. Her voice dropped. Someone was once my comfort and madness.

Johnny nodded; purple hair waved around the inside of his head. He blinked the image away before he could see Her face.

That was a pocket knife. A little cliched, yes. I prefer the mechanical pencil, she held it up. You can get a lot more detail in.

Why? Why do that? Doesn't it hurt? How much blood do you lose?

She sighed. I do it because I won't touch another person to do it. The lines are thin. Not too much blood is lost. It doesn't hurt and I like the design.

Why not get a tattoo?

That's cheating. And not natural. The inks are permanent.

Johnny shook his head. You're crazy.

Maybe that's why I'm in a box. But I think you're crazy.



You're the only person who's talked to me today. She grinned and clicked the bottom of the pencil.