Tattoos and how I feel

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postaday2016, tattoo

Our daughter has a droll, wry sense of humor. She decided to address her childhood fear of all things science fiction, horror or suspenseful by getting a tattoo, not her first mind you, just the latest. She waited  until she turned 18 to start her tattoo collection, I think because I had made my feelings about tattoos very clear, I didn’t care for them. I used to tell her and her brother that  they were so beautiful, why tarnish such beauty with a tattoo? They both, of course see tattoos as beautiful and avenues of self-expression, so my feelings and thoughts fell on deaf ears because they both got tattoos almost immediately after turning 18. My husband likes tattoos, he has three, so he shares that love of ink art in common with the children, which is a great thing, something they share amongst each other, just the three of them, it makes it special when they discuss and plan future tattoo art.

At this point, I have gotten over my vehemence against the art, after all our daughter has more then just the one, I think she has at least five, not all are as big as the one in the picture, they are strategically placed around her body, very tasteful in my opinion and maybe it’s because when I see my children I see beauty, I don’t find the tattoos ugly, I now see them as a part of who my children are and I see their meaning.

I’m glad I have evolved, doesn’t mean I’m ever going to get one, that will never happen, I can promise you that, but when I hear about a new tattoo, I no longer make faces or say anything, there is nothing to say and nothing else to do, but smile, hug and love.

Adding another layer to a tattoo

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color, dream catcher drawing, postady2013, tattoo

Almost 6 years ago, Nov.1 2007, I went into the hospital in dire circumstances. I was deathly ill and the emergency room doctor was so pessimistic that he told my hubby that I had two days left at the most. My hubby told him that he wasn’t needed and got the hospitalist, Doctor Baker, to take over. He saved my life by taking charge so quickly and finding us a doctor that was willing to take serious care and not give up. Prior to all this, from time to time, I would draw dream catchers. I learned about dream catchers while studying about the Native American culture in high school and I started drawing these as whimsical expressions of art when I was 15 and I had a few fans over the years. After my scary diagnosis my hubby took the dream catcher that I had drawn for him and had it tattooed on his back so that he would forever carry something of mine that I had created.

Today my hubby and I went to Northampton because my hubby was inspired to add a special splash of color to enhance the existing tattoo. A few years back, a lunar eclipse happened on his birthday and so he wanted to capture the gorgeous oranges, yellows and reds surrounding the circle. It didn’t take very long and the results came out to be exactly what my hubby envisioned. I’m very happy that his tattoo means so much to him and that he found another way to give it even more meaning.

Witnessing something symbolic

Tags

body art, meaning, postaday2013, symbolism, tattoo

Today my hubby and I went with the baby girl as support while she received her first tattoo. My hubby has three tattoos, so he was understanding and completely on board with the tattoo idea. Myself, on the other hand, always made it a point of honor that both my children wait until eighteen before they had any type of piercings or tattoos done because personally, I find them very unappealing. My husband is the only person that I know of who has tattoos that I find suit him and that are attractive.

My baby girl waited until the day after her 19th birthday to get her tattoo and she specifically asked us to go, so how can I say no. I might not agree with tattoos but it isn’t my body, it is hers, so I can’t just impose my tastes and sensibilities on her. It is simply a matter of taste and self-expression after all. I can’t deny her my support just because of a difference in taste. She is my baby girl after all and since it is a painful undertaking, she has to hold someone’s hand and it should be mine, her Maman.

I have to hand it to the baby girl, she was awfully brave and pain tolerant. The tattoo artist himself was quite impressed by her grit and stoicism. My hubby and I weren’t so surprised because she has always been plucky and feisty, since she was a tiny little thing.