I'm just a post-modern girl reveling in the cacophony and attempting to make sense (or at least fun) of the universe as it appears to me.
I want a semi-permanent tattoo. And Kyle should too.
Scientists need to develop a tattooing process that lasts 5-10 years. Not only could you avoid the droopy Mickey Mouse breast tattoo when 60 years of gravity takes its toll, but as the ways we sport our identity change, so can the affectation.
Now, some tattoo artists claim to have a semi-permanent ink or alternatively a process of inking closer to the surface of the skin that allows for a gradual fading of the tattoo, but apparently this is hogwash.
The best that appears to be available is a more natural ink, stored in teeny-tiny capsules under the skin, that requires only one laser treatment to remove. Meh. This isn’t quite what I was hoping for, but it at least offers a non-scam option, and on the good side, the tattoo could last as long as it was interesting to its owner.
I’ve often been struck by a desire for a tattoo, but what specific tattoo has changed over the years. At one point, I wanted the Rebel Alliance symbol to sit at the base of my neck (geek!). At another, I wanted a cheshire cat on my shoulder blade. Most recently I’ve wanted an elaborate Celtic-knot Tree of Life with a cat shaped in the branches and a rabbit in the roots to cover the majority of my back. I’d loved to have gotten them all to symbolize that particular point in time, but I’ve always known that they wouldn’t appeal to me for more than a handful of years.
A senior I had in class this year came in one day with fresh ink on his arm. It was a five-inch high, dark pink ribbon. A ribbon?! Kyle* is what I would describe as a high-fashion skater-punk. He had large gauge ear piercings and a woven, hemp necklace. Somehow the ribbon didn’t jive. But then, I lost the desire to sport the ribbon even on my jacket collar when I saw a minivan with three different magnetic ribbons showing the owner’s support for the troops, their concern over breast cancer, and their love for the U.S.A. Like sayings, even the most clever become cliche with overuse. The ribbon is about as meaningful as the LiveStrong plastic, yellow bracelet.
When I asked Kyle about the tattoo, he explained that his mother was a breast cancer survivor and that the tat was a show of love and support for her. I had great respect for his motivations but thought he could have come up with a more personal, artistic and expressive symbol to display. Were I his mom, I would even have dug the classic Mom on a heart over the pink ribbon alternative. I imagine in a few years, Kyle will wish he had waited for a better design.
*Name changed to protect the relatively innocent