Better a Witty Fool than a Foolish Wit

Inner Workings of My Twisted Mind.

I Believe in Angels

The dividing line between those who love tattoos and those who hate them is deep and cavernous.  There’s a Grand Canyon between the two factions, and one that doesn’t seem amenable to resolution any time soon.  I happen to be on one particular side of that Canyon (the side that pays a lot of money to have artwork painfully etched onto her body), but I don’t judge.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  I don’t mind the side that doesn’t like tattoos, I get that they aren’t for everybody, but I can’t stand when people tell me that they will diminish my ability to get a job…it’s 2008 people.  No matter what you think of them tattoos are no longer signifiers for badass, no longer signifiers for criminal or delinquent, they are simply a form of artistic expression.  

For some people, they’re simply pretty or cute, for some people they’re ironic, for some people they mean something more.  Personally, I never have and never will get a tattoo that doesn’t mean something to me.  It really doesn’t matter if anyone else likes them, they are my tattoos on my body and they have meaning to me.  Like scars or clothes or jewelry, tattoos tell a story about who the wearer is as a person.  Sure, part of it is aesthetic, they do look cool, but almost like a cave painting they are telling of who we are and what we do, what we like, what’s important enough to us to endure the pain (which isn’t that bad, but does change depending on where said tattoo is), pay the money, and make a choice to have this thing permanently on our body.  
But there are odd sorts of relationships that come from having tattoos.  And no, there’s not some club where all of us with tattoos give a thumbs up like corvette drivers or anything like that.  The relationship I’m talking about is the odd partnership between tattoo artist and tattoo recipient.  It’s a relationship of trust, but also one of shared experience, of artistic vision, of classic economic exchange of money for services rendered.  Not to mentioned it’s a shared lump of time where one party is in deep concentration for hours on end, while the other is lying still while being carved into with needles and ink.
Finding a tattoo parlor and tattoo artist can be a task in and of itself, let alone saving the money, sitting for three hours, babying your new baby during the healing process.  Tattooing is not just some rebellious youth art form any more.  It’s legitimate, and I’m pretty sure it’s here to stay in mainstream culture.  So whether or not you like it, I think it might be time to just accept it.  And I’ll send a picture of my new back when it heals so you can all marvel in just how amazing the artistry of ink and needles can be.  
Peace, Love, and S.C. Ink,
P.S.  My new one only took six hours…ouch!

August 29, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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