Tattoo You
So do you have any tattoos? And if so, why? There’s no disputing their stratospheric rise in popularity over the last 30 years. At one time they were considered taboo. The forbidden badges of deviant, hard-core bikers, criminals, rock n’ rollers or lost youth. Today, it would not be a stretch to say a majority of people under the age of 40 have at least one, though I’ve no statistical proof to base this on. There are even several reality TV shows dedicated to the topic. Tattoos are definitely mainstream. We were shocked recently when our daughter was refused employment by a restaurant because of visible tattoos. We concluded they might have a tough time finding people to hire and it’s likely not a place she really wanted to work anyway.
Which brings us back to the discussion of why? Tattoos generally represent strong personal expressions of one’s feelings or beliefs. Love, loss or other deep-seated feelings, so ingrained at a point in time, their felt strongly enough to be permanently displayed somewhere on someone’s body. Though their are now several businesses being built on temporary versions for those less inclined to permanence. The preponderance of tattoo removal and cover up services speaks to the dilemma of making such decisions.
I, myself, have three, which were installed at 10 year intervals and over which I seriously laboured in terms of theme, design and the final decision to proceed. Mine were always meant to be there for as long as I occupy this physical body.
The first is on my right bicep and the result of a successful bid at a silent auction held at a high tech event I attended when I was 30. It is a stylized Canadian flag above some Kanji script (夢想家 or “musouka”) which translates to dreamer in English. So, I am a Canadian dreamer. Though I often joke I cannot read Kanji, so it may say Cup of Noodles for all I know.
The second was done when I was in my early 40s and is positioned on my left calf; on the left because it’s figuratively the side your heart is on. This design includes another, albeit more realistic, maple leaf crossed by two hockey sticks and surrounded by the initials of my family members. Of course, the Devil is always quick to point out her letter is slightly smaller than her brothers, which is somehow my fault. This one simply forever declares I’m a Hockey Dad.
Lastly and most recently I decided on something of a whim (though I had 6 months to back out) to have Calvin and Hobbes (beloved cartoon characters from my youth) etched on my left bicep. The are depicted with distorted, enraged facial expressions as if clowning for a family photo. I like to believe this image encapsulates my personality to a T. Sometimes I’m Calvin, sometimes Hobbes, but I’m always sneering to some degree.
And so, I have these three personal images I carry with me everywhere and share proudly as I see fit. My wife and daughter have four and five respectively, which they’ve chosen for personal and fitting reasons of their own. My son has none and I’m sure he has any interest. So goes the phrase…to each his own. I believe the art and act provides an important outlet for those who wish to show the World their why.
