bryiarrose: (skipping stones)
today marked four years that i've had my tattoo.
it was actually four whole years ago that i sat there in the baltimore tattoo museum while george (he's the one in the front holding the... pig?) inked onto the small of my back the design we'd come up with together.
last year, in the memoir class i took, i wrote about getting my tattoo. it ended up as a central piece of my large work for the course, which i don't think anyone but jane ever read the whole of... but tonight there's something i want to say about all this. about the ink under my skin, about the way time passes. the way our memories work. that year was full of tuesdays. this year is full of days. really, i'm not sure that i can find the words tonight--still somewhat sick with whatever i have that's been morphing day to day, i'm drained to say the least. and so, though i might change my mind and lock it or move it later, here's the section from that memoir, and my tattoo to go with it.

read on if you wish, but be warned if you should. )
because it isn't every day i get to look at it. )

February 2010

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