Guhhhh. I missed a day! Interestingly enough, the day I missed was one in which I was out at a happy hour for Chicagoist, so I was hanging with a bunch of writers ignoring my writing duties here.
Also, this prompt doesn't...have anything for me.
It asks what tattoos you have and if they have meaning. I don't have any at all. So...no meaning!
That said, I've thought of one. I've even gotten it sketched by a friend in New Mexico who's a tattoo artist, and I think she did a lovely job incorporating all the elements I wanted in it. I don't have it yet, and though it would mean a lot to me, I don't know that I want to go into the raw detail of it here, so that's what I'll say about that.
Tattoos in general though...growing up I thought it was wrong, I guess? Many people I was surrounded by thought so. Screwing up God's temple and such. But I see tattoos as people revealing who they are on the inside on their outside, and I think the stories behind so many of them are so poignant and beautiful, and it's so bold that they want to wear it on their skin forever.
Personally, I'm interested in the things that we commit to forever. Forever is a long time, and we don't always get to choose what we carry with us. If I've got anything close to a tattoo it's my big scar from moving to NM. And I earned it, and though sometimes it's inflamed and red and angry, I've come to like it. It reminds me of something brave and crazy and unforgettable that I did. I didn't really choose to get stapled in the arm, but now that I have it, I choose to see it as more than just an injury.
One day, maybe I'll get that tattoo, and choose that story to be told everywhere I go, inked on my skin, forever.
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