Thursday, March 8, 2007

Ink

Mistress Nightengale and Mistress Urban stepped up and subjected themselves to the permanence of ink during Palooza 2007. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I enjoyed being in the tattoo parlor. There is something about the artsy decor and the sound of the needles humming in the background that really speak to me. It took a lot of self control to not get another tattoo while I was there.

After I got my first tattoo, and I now say first because I most definitely will ink again, I thought I would never get one again. I got one for the experience of it. I had no idea of what I wanted and spent a few hours looking through all the books to figure out what it would be. I have an egyptian protection symbol, the eye of horus, on my lower back. It has no significance to me, other than it is a tattoo that I thought looked cool. My neighbors and I all got one together, back when I turned 30. For the hell of it.

Coworkers I had at the time, who were inked all up and down their bodies, said it was addictive and that I would get another. I laughed and said it would never happen. I wasn't one of "those kind of people". But maybe I am.

The permanence of it appeals to me. In this day and age, everything is set up to be so easily disposable and temporary. Marriages, electronics, appliances, games, friendships. It seems that people are so eager to try new things, but not commit to them for the long haul. Go ahead and buy that, but don't get too attached because a better one will be available next year. Go ahead and get married, if you don't like it you can get it annulled later. A lack of commitment? I don't know. It kind of harshes my mellow.

I suppose a tattoo, in its small way, is a reminder to me that there are things that are permanent and that we can choose to commit to them. A symbol. And I like that.

2 comments:

Jim Chandler said...

I'm relieved to see that your blogging wasn't temporary - welcome back!

Lisa said...

I am such an excellent mother and role model. NOT. As soon as he saw my tattoo, Ted pulled out the box of colored sharpies and drew a heart tattoo on his back exactly where mine is. Like mother, like son . . . kinda like the Waltons, n'est pas?

Then, cuz it's a family affair over here and it was too damn easy for Tim to "bring it on home" for the babies and show them the extreme extension of Mommy's little romp, Tim agreed to sharpie Ted his own curlicued-tendriled-Bam Margera from Jackass "heart-o-gram" tattoo centered on Ted's belly button and covering 90% of his abdomen, rib and chest area. Oh, yeah, my peeps is urban. . . and I'm still not quite out of trouble.

My baby, he's jonesing for ink,
Jay can tat him a distlefink.
No, Teddy's not Amish,
But I'd never admonish,
Cuz my example I'd need to rethink.