I find that I am just now really becoming adjusted to how my tattoos have changed my life.
At A Glance Author Connie Contact [email protected] When N/A Artist various artists Studio various studios Location Oklahoma / Missouri
By appearances, I had never been a person who drew much attention from strangers....just a normal, average looking, woman. So average, in fact, that strangers often mistook me for someone that they had known in the past.
Even now, I remain that person...so long as my tattoos are covered by my clothing! But to the strangers' eye, I magically become a completely different person when I dare to uncover them.
I suppose that art (in any form) is always a motive for curiosity, interpretation, and opinion. It seems that body art is no exception. The difference is that with other forms of art, the artist is generally the only person who has subjected himself to the scrutiny and reactions of the beholder. The choice to become a "human canvas" means becoming the artist's proxy in some ways.
Those of us who are tattooed learn to adjust to the stares, stereotypes, opinions, and questions of the beholders. Interestingly enough, I am learning that being a tattooed person of the FEMALE gender subjects me to additional stereotypes that my male counterparts do not experience. Some experiences are good, and some are not so good. We all learn to respond to them in our own ways.
People often ask questions about my tattoos, but the ONE question that is most often asked of me is ...."WHY???"
I suppose that if you asked this question of 100 tattooed people, you'd get about 100 different answers. Each individual person's reasons are as widely varied as the designs themselves and the people themselves. Perhaps "individuality" itself IS the answer to the question??
After having been asked the "why?" question so often, I realized that I really didn't KNOW the answer to the question, and so I set about to do some soul-searching in order to discover the answer.
All I knew was that I was intrigued by tattoos from a very young age, when I stole a glimpse of my bare-chested and heavily tattooed Uncle. I cannot tell you surely why this incident impressed me so very much. I suppose that I was simply full of innocent curiosity and innate awe of the uncommon.
It was in my teenage years that I decided...just knew...that I wanted my own tattoo. In retrospect, I suppose that at that point in my life, the "want" had a great deal to do with rebellion. I had spent all of the years of my young life trying to become exactly what my parents and teachers and society dictated that I should be. But for me, with each passing year, it had become an increasingly difficult task. And so, by the time I became a teenager, I was tired of trying...tired of failing...trying desperately to stand up boldly and shout to the world that I wanted to be free of conformity. But I was a basically shy and fearful kid...and "shouting" was not an easy thing for me to do. My actions spoke for me...and a tattoo would have spoken volumes!
I have always loved art, and have always understood the power of it. I can remember myself as a young child, spending endless hours doodling pictures of horses with my Aunt. By the time I reached High School, my passion was sketching people. Art was something that I enjoyed very much, but I also knew that I was not very good at it. Consequently, I gave up doing any artwork of my own. But my passion for art never waned and my love of tattoos secretly grew stronger. Perhaps at that point in my life, the desire for a tattoo was simply my need to stay personally, intimately connected to art in some way?
Many years of my life were ruled by fear. Fear of consequence...because I knew that I was not, and could not be, the person that I was expected to be. Fear of actively discovering who I really was...and the anger inside me. Fear also kept me from actually getting that tattoo that I wanted... I fear needles. And so, I chose to hide from my fears rather than face them, and drugs were my hiding place. I became an addict and remained so for 7 years.
Eventually, there came a fateful day. It is said that only God knows the day on which a person will die...when his/her "number is up". This fateful day could easily have been the day of my death...but instead became the day of my "birth". It is also said that "we do not choose God, God chooses us." I believe that to be true, and on the fateful day, God chose me. From that day forward, I ceased trying to "hide".
It became increasingly apparent to me that I really had no idea who I was! Thus far I had only been able to learn who I was NOT...I was NOT an academic "brainiac"...I was NOT an artist (of any kind)... and I was NOT a "junkie" (anymore). It seemed that the only thing I WAS sure of was that I was a "believer"...a "christian", and I always would be. And that is what my tattoo should say about me. I chose a design of a cross with lilies around it and inscribed my "birthdate" upon it...and I finally got my tattoo!
I don't think that I can adequately express to you how that tattoo made me feel. I'm sure that you've heard the expression "she wears her heart on her sleeve"....well that's sort of how I felt... as if a little piece of the inner me was now on display for all the world to see. And surprisingly, that did not make me feel vulnerable...it made me feel stronger!
I realized that there was yet another core thing that defined me...my heritage...my lineage...I WAS Scottish/Irish. And although my name and my fair skin were evidence of it, it was evidence easily overlooked. An ethnic tattoo would proclaim it...honor it...for all the world to see.
Life is a journey. As I continue on my journey I continue to add tattoos...I have 13 now. My tattooed flesh is the "scrapbook" of my journey, depicting where I've come from, where I've been, who I've loved, and what I believe in. Every design is meaningful, permanent, expressive...very powerful art. And with each one I become a more powerful person.
Why am I tattooed?? Because it's who I AM...it's who I've always been... it's who I'm yet to become.
Becoming a tattooed person has taught me the most valuable lesson of my life... happiness and fulfillment come from within, but will never come until you fully understand and accept who's in there! Always be true to yourself...no matter how others react to you. Don't be afraid to show your true colors, because if others can't love you for who you really are, then their kind of so-called "love" isn't worth having! All of the people in my life who REALLY love me have never abandoned me and they never will no matter how many tattoos I have. None of them ever seem the least bit embarrassed to be seen in public with a "tattooed freak"...not even my Mother!