This is part of a series on my Santa Perpetua tattoos. You can read the rest in the tattoo category on this blog.
I think the angst for this one boils down to how to let people take the risks they can afford to take, with as much information as possible.
This is part of a series on my Santa Perpetua tattoos. You can read the rest in the tattoo category on this blog.
The next one came up about one of my great loves, made manifest in a phase of my life. I have always loved the concept of liminal1 space. I first became aware of it as a concept at the Ann Arbor Film Festival2, spending 3 minutes with the audience watching a minute hand move from just after one marker to just before another on a watch face, the movement so slow it was imperceptible until they showed where it had started. The idea of being between things intrigued me. I cherished it when traveling constantly, always in airports and rarely anywhere at all. It was good to have a name for a space that can be so exhausting when I was between work, before I had realized that work didn’t need to be my identity.
When Reed and I started trying to get pregnant, I realized the roller coaster of waiting, then not knowing, and then of one moment of clarity followed by the same cycle every month might break me. Given how much Santa Perpetua and I had talked about liminal space in previous rounds, I figured it was time to go all-in on that topic.
This is part of a series on my Santa Perpetua tattoos. You can read the rest in the tattoo category on this blog.
I loved my first tattoo from Santa Perpetua so much I knew I wanted to get more, and that we had just started a long journey together1. So the next thing I wanted to do was to find a way to find a cohesive visual story across my existing tattoos, to pull the new style in with. This felt like a mildly bold thing to ask a tattooist to do – connect their work to existing work, without a live collaboration with the other artist(s).
This is my shortest entry in this series because it is the most private one for me.
I want to tell you the story of some of the art I carry with me. I want to tell you about Santa Perpetua.
I first got started getting tattoo’d back in maybe 2014, despite my parents’ best intentions. The first thing I ever got tattoo’d was “Death is the road to awe”1 in ASCII hexadecimal down my spine because 1/ I couldn’t get the phase out of my head2, 2/ “death” is change in the tarot, and what is wrong with that, anyway, and 2/ encoding it in ASCII hex would mean that even if my feelings on the quote changed over time, no one could really call me on it.It was, it ends up, the beginning of a long journey.
The first couple tattoos of hex code were from a total weirdo in my college town I’ll always remember fondly. The ensuing few were from a generally lovely gent in Seattle who was exceptional and exact about lettering and numbers. But I wanted something more – our few forays into creativity left something lacking. At some point I realized I had been following Santa Perpetua online via tattoo blogs for a handful of years, and that I could just, you know, go get a tattoo from her if I was willing to travel for it.
My knees and upper arms are speckled with bruises: the sign of an abusive lover or a loving brother.
Here is what vacation with my family is like: mid-breakfast at B&O, Mom states that she would like 7 Element Soup at some point, which means we should probably go to The Wild Ginger for lunch. Dinner reservations have already been made. I actually got slightly nauseous at the sight of food when out at IHOP with friends at 1a.
Between meals, we sit around and tell stories. I try to explain tech, Seamus and Dad geek about etymology. Mom, Jessie, and Anita shop for clothes, try on jewelry, look at shoes.
Came out to my parents as queer, which went over much better than expected. Explaining that I still like boys was interesting. Later that same day mom glimpsed the tattoo, which I actually dreaded more (as getting a tattoo is a choice as opposed to sexuality (even though sexuality can be a choice as well, genetics definitely have a big say) and one that they were adamantly against until I was done with college). But after explaining what it meant, and how hex works, and why I got them mom said it was actually “pretty cool.”
Later that same night we went to the Can Can to see Maybe Manic? which has a bunch of different styles of dancing and such (and an extremely tastey male-due fan-dance. Good lord). Some bits were burlesque. Which would be kind of awkward watching it with your parents anyway, but especially after having come out that day? Good lord. Then my mom leaned over after the lovely Fuchsia Foxxx had shaken her lovely lady bumps (check it out) in our direction and said “so that’s what you go for?” and laughed quite a lot.
I register for the LSATS and prep classes this week. Guess it’s time to figure out what the hell I’m doing. I’m not going to hyperventilate. Really. It’s odd to do things for me instead of for other people.
Also probably start looking for a roommate sometime soon, for a new apartment, etc. I love where I live, and living on my own has been amazing, but I need to cut living costs down if I’m going to afford school.
Text here.
From a link dear Matt posted the other day. I really like this guy, and what he has to say. Enough that the subject line will be my next tattoo (along with another choice I’ve made).
I like seeing people being fiery about their passions. Otherwise, what’s the point in doing anything? A habit is an action without the point, and I don’t have time to waste.
The family is visiting this weekend. I feel my sharpest when we’re mocking each other viciously, loving unconditionally, laughing at the absurdity of our darkest moments. I learn so much from them, am supported by them, but also inspired to bring new things to the table.
Sometimes I think it would be easier to believe in .one. higher power because then I’d have somewhere to focus all the gratitude, love, and joy that I feel sometimes. Instead I have to feel it towards the whole world. And it’s pretty big. You can’t even see all of it from the top of your roof, as Matt said this morning.
Good lord I’m gushy this morning. MORE COFFEE!
..you have to remember that our brains are still basically suited for flinging poo at each other out of trees. And just because you have all the pieces in front of you doesn’t mean they’ll necessarily fit the outcome.
DNA was a genius.
edit : no, this is not on my leg. please see the comments if you haven’t read the entire H2G2 series and so don’t get the reference
We’re all just winging it, all the time, no matter how well-laid you think your plans are (though they certainly do help). Try to be the kind of person who’s ok with that.