I come from a family where a tattoo is not a NO,NO… “why don’t you make a tattoo on your brain, idiot”… and a tattoo means ostracism (well, not only a tattoo means that in this family). Ye.. let’s face it.. it is far from loving and accepting.
I’m nearing 40 and only just last year my parents discovered one of my tattoos.. I won’t be quoting the precise words.. there is no point in that. It’s a hate talk.. and that’s all there is to it. No willingness to understand or accept.
Now, one could ask: why? what for? what devil possessed me to do them? My response is… none. Each of the 6(well 7 but one is covered so does not really count) I have are part of my journey, part of who I am, who I was and who I am becoming. I guess nothing special there.
I won’t be showing off all of them.. but I will drop a word or two on each.
My first one, was small and in sepia. I got it covered up last year, because over the 15 years (I got it in summer of 2000) it got, for some reason, very worn off.. looked almost as if laser removed and it’s original meaning got lost. What was left suggested something I really did not want on my body. It was designed by my hubby while we were dating and was a symbol of a dragon-woman. I suspect the regenerative skills of my skin are simply better/faster working than most. Why I got it… I was at the stage of really needing to set myself free.. and it was part of the process.
It wasn’t till 10 years later until I got a second one. It is something I have had in mind for a couple of years, in sepia, Latin and still needs something added (so, I would say it is incomplete). And since my tattooist decided to quit the job I will be looking for someone else later on.
It was followed by a cross on my arm… with a text in Latin as well.
Both are symbolic in a many ways but most importantly they show my catholic roots… from which I did sail away, but which are still there.. and I doubt I will ever be rid of them. As they say here ‘ what the shell is soaked with in the begging will give out sent of in the future’.
Then came the tattoo that means the most to me… as it was overdue by 19 years when I made it. It relates closely to Myst (yes, the games… but foremost the books) – book of Ti’ana. It is green with white and brown. I won’t go into the details there of.. it was part of freeing myself from my jail of feelings and being emotional slave of my own mother.
My biggest pride is the wing one.It is also the largest and monochromatic B-W.
Nika (https://www.facebook.com/nikatattoo?fref=ts) did really good job on it. It is here to remind that I do have wings, that they were returned to me (like to Maleficent) years after being chopped off…. and that I should use them. The wing itself is unique, there was no real pattern for it because I did not wish for it to look like a bird or angel wing.. I wanted it to be my own.. Nika even added some parts while already working on it.. so I doubt is it copy-able.
Then I covered up my first tattoo…with a much larger and way more colorful lotus. Lotus is the only one I was not sure of, the only one I had doubts . Yet, when it fully healed it looks good.
The last one is my simplified rotor. It may seem stupid.. yet I do really love that machine/design/idea. Here it is not yet fully healed.
It is also one of most ironic tattoos.. for some reason (did a health check and all seems fine) the ink simply went into my veins (as Nika said “it bleed into you”) … I have nothing against that… simply have around it a network of black vessels and it does look due to it as if it melted in. Unintended effect (most likely due to some temporal hormonal sway of mine) but very fitting. I always liked machinery and used oils and gasoline… ;-D
Tattoos do not define me… I define them and myself… judge me for my actions not for my tattoos and looks. Better yet, do not judge at all, as only those without any fault should be allowed to judge.. and sorry to be blunt… you have not clue where I am coming from, what I have been through or where I am headed.