tatouage

i love tattoos.

on other people.

i’ve been reading through this blog (the “tattoo tuesdays”) for almost the entire hour that felix has been asleep so far.  they’re so pretty.

i’m that person who talks about all the tattoos she wants and then never gets them.  because i lack the cojones, possibly.  or because i picture my future 80 year old skin.  or because it seems like a culture that i, for some reason, shouldn’t be a part of.  i mean, i’m a mom now, right?  or something.

for example, i’ve been thinking/talking about getting a vintage looking hot air balloon for ages.  something like this:

sans anchor, sans hearts.

or one of those old-timey bikes with the big ol’ front wheel.

or something floral, but wildflower-y.

or the text “yes, but oh!” which would be a reference to my favorite book of all time – fierce invalids home from hot climates by tom robbins.

“tennessee williams once wrote, ‘we all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.’  in a certain sense, the playwright was correct.  yes, but oh!  what a view from that upstairs window!

what tennessee williams failed to mention was that if we look out of that window with an itchy curiosity and a passionate eye; with a generous spirit and a capacity for delight; and, yes, the language with which to support and enrich the things we see, then it DOESN’T MATTER that the house is burning down around us.  it doesn’t matter.  let the motherfucker blaze!”

you get the idea.  all talk, no action.  maybe one day.

oh my, look who just woke up!

Advertisements