A few weeks ago, I got another tattoo. I haven’t posted about it and might not, not sure. Maybe at some point. And it’s not because I don’t want to share the work (it’s beautiful, if I do say so myself) but it’s just that I’ve been a lot more aware – cautious, you could say – about sharing what I feel about something before I feel it. So I guess not sharing the tattoo is just a self-experiment in waiting first, feeling second and sharing last.

Just so you know, the photo above is not my tattoo. Although mine is a peony.

When asked by friends, “why do you get tattoos?” (which I think is both a good and fair question) I’ve come to say that, simply, I like the experience: enduring the nervousness right before the buzzing needle touches skin; the imminent pain that follows, for hours; the way the mind wanders and the body stiffens as adrenaline rushes to save you; everything – your skin, bones, heart and mind – working together to make this less painful; the subsequent recovery and self-care; the acceptance that there is something permanent in my life now.

I like it all.

And all I have to do is lay around and wait for it to be done. It’s an experience that can’t quite be duplicated. That’s why.

Do you have tattoos? What do you like about getting them? I’m curious. Comment or email, I’d like to know.