Permanent Artwork
... way it comforted me. The fun part was picking out the colors of my tattoo. I knew I wanted to use black and I decided to pick out a shade of red, so I chose a deep crimson. Then I heard the sound of rubber gloves snapping, and the noise of the tattooing machine followed. I was terrified, yet excited and proud, for I felt good about what I was doing because I knew the tattoo would actually mean something to me of great importance. It is known as a commemorative tattoo and I was getting it in honor of my father who died earlier that year. The thought of honoring my dad and the memory of him gave me the drive to go through with it. I was filled with mixed emotions, thinking of the times we shared and then realizing how much he will miss in my life. I snapped back into reality, the pain was unbearable at times, especially as he moved lower down my back. I hated the constant rubbing of the paper towel used to wipe the blood away from my skin; it made the surface very sore and raw. I could feel my back swell up as he continued on. The people there were actually very nice and down to earth. They offered me something to drink and gave me smoke breaks. Bill was very talkative and funny and he kept a conversation going through the whole tattoo, which made me very relaxed and comfortable. When it was all done, he brought me to the bathroom to look at my tattoo. I loved it; I turned around to show Jamie and Erin, and they were full of smiles. He then bandaged me up and gave me directions on how to take care of it. I was barely listening; I could hardly wait to get home and look at it in the mirror. I was still full of adrenaline as I thanked Bill and walked out the door. Months later, long after the swelling went down and the peeling had stopped I started to really wonder why I felt the need to get a tattoo, of all things, to honor my dad. Was I just being rebellious and going through a phase or had I really thought this through? Though there is no point pondering that question now because it is already there and permanent. During the time there were many influences around to help me decide what would be appropriate and worthwhile to leave an everlasting mark on my body. I, myself, was an influence on my tattoo. Earlier that year, my dad passed away; honoring and remembering him were the only things that were on my mind. After giving it more thought, my mind was made up, and I decided to get an honorable tattoo in remembrance of my dad. The way that I thought about it was that I was getting two things done at once. I was getting something that I’ve always wanted, and even though my dad would be in my thoughts forever, it would be a symbol of our relationship and the times that we’ve spent together. Now every time I look at myself in the mirror I will be reminded that my dad is in a better place and that he will always be watching over me. My friends and my sister, Jamie, were very supportive and influential. They believed that getting a tattoo was cool and some of them were actually jealous. They were envious of the fact that they weren’t legally allowed to get a tattoo yet. As for Jamie, she greatly influenced me because she persuaded me into thinking it was the right thing to do. She wanted one so badly but said she couldn’t go through with it without me. As for my mom, I knew that she would not be delighted or supportive of the fact that her little girl was going to deface and mutilate her body. According to her, people with tattoos are low lives who look frightening and will never amount to anything. She felt that in order for me to thrive in life I must look a certain way, and tattoos would interfere. She feared that I was lowering my chances of having the successful life and professional job she had always dreamed I would have. Her reasoning came from the feelings that she wanted a better and easier life for me than what she had. She worked very hard to get where she is today and doesn’t want me to create any more hurdles for myself than the ones life already hands you. By not even knowing it, she influenced me into considering what I was doing, and whether this would be a good idea. She always told me to follow my heart and to not worry about people judging me. I admit I thought about her feeling, but the opportunity was out there, and I had the perfect chance to fulfill a desire I’ve had since my dad passed away. In my generation it was cool to have tattoos and piercings, which would make you stand out and feel like an individual. When I was younger my thoughts about those with tattoos and piercings were skewed and fogged by my parents and other elders. I was told that they were bad people, who had no respect for society and authority. Many older people still think this way, but I needed to make my own decision. Culture is what a generation makes of it, not what previous generations made of it. Issues in our society today were also influenced on my tattoo. Celebrities, such as Tommy Lee, are portrayed in a negative way because of his appearance. He is known as wild and crazy, and with his body art he is looked at in a very eccentric way. Commercials on television also portrayed the rebels or bad people with tattoos and piercings. If society is telling us not to judge and stereotype people, then why would they make these outrageous statements? To be an individual, is to be unique and perfectly all right with yourself and to understand and respect others. My tattoo encompasses all these feelings, and makes a statement, that says that I’m not afraid of what other people think. If other people look at me, and they think I’m bad and crazy, they can because I know what this tattoo means to me. My perspective on my tattoo changed slowly over time. I realized that I was using my dad’s death as an excuse to get a tattoo. I thought that by getting a tattoo it would be a way for me to always remember him, because I could look at it and think of him. I don’t need a tattoo to remember all the specials times we had spent together, and I wasn’t exactly honoring him by getting it. If he were still around he would kill me. Deep down I really just wanted a tattoo because I liked them. I was so concerned with what other people thought that I felt like I had to justify my actions. ...