Tattoo Art

18 May

Last summer my cousin was talking about getting a tattoo in honor of our grandfather and managed to get almost all of us excited about doing it – including our Moms and the Baba* – which is a feat in itself. The timing never worked out (a pre-college teen, a grad student and a full time employee: we never had a shot in hell at getting those schedules lined up) so she ended up getting the tattoo on her own.

At family reunions, there is usually some unofficial poll on tattoos: who’s gonna get ’em, who’s got ’em and whaddya got? Then it will turn to the topic of last summer’s ‘Peanut Heaven’ addition to my cousins feet where a few of us chime in (or whine in) “You didn’t wait for us!”

I’m not sure if it’s serious conversation (whining!?) on the part of some family members or if it’s just teasing, but I still halfway consider it when I see it.

This past weekend, while most of us were gathered for a portrait session, I saw her tattoo and took a pic using the Hipstamatic camera app (with which I am now obsessed). I keep looking at my own feet and I wonder…

Tattoos are permanent, hence one of my original motivations for a nose piercing, but Tattoos are also a permanent reminder. I didn’t think I could settle on one thing for the rest of my life that I would still like when I’m 90 – my skin will wrinkle. sigh – however this feels like it could be the one that bridges the gap.

Feet are extremely difficult to tattoo, sloughing skin at a much faster rate than the rest of the body, and it would almost immediately lighten, but it would be memory in more ways than one.

You can see some lightening on J’s feet after a year, sans touch-ups, but overall it’s pretty good. I think I’d choose a much smaller version for myself, but the idea would be almost the same.

*Note: Our Moms and the Baba were in no way ever on board to do this to their own feet, they simply thought it was a sweet idea.

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