Erin, Illinois My dad passed away last year suddenly. My sister and I were devastated and decided to do tribute tattoos for him on our right wrists. My original idea was to copy a poster he had made in the garage in his handwriting. It was a Chevy Symbol with the Words 1 HOT VET. … Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Erin
Stacy, Minnesota My two sisters and I have this tattoo on our wrists. My oldest daughter designed it for us. Three music clefs: the treble clef is up on mine because it looks like an S for Stacy; the bass clef is up on my sister Jen’s because it kind of looks like a J; … Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Stacy
Susan, Virginia When my daughter turned 18 she told me she wanted a tattoo. I had been thinking about it for many years and I told her that if she still wanted one when she had waited a year we would go in and get them together. Not quite a year later, and after lots … Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Susan
Maegan, New Hampshire This tattoo was my first. Shane was a 15 year old trans-man. He took his own life before he could actually experience it. He was always full of life and an incredible inspiration to not only me but to everyone who actually gave him the chance. Shane wrote a poem: “The 27 … Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Maegan
My grandfather had a wild child of a sister who, if I’m remembering right, ran off in her teens to marry a carnie. She loved to fall in love, but it didn’t always end well. I only met her once, at lunch, when my family was on a road trip and we stopped at … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Ted Kooser
Steve, southern California I’m a bartender by night and an internationally competitive drone racer by day. This is my one and only tattoo. I got it when I moved from Portland, the City of Roses, to California, as a symbol of a major transition in my life. Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Steve
Phoebe, Wisconsin I got this when I was 18, a few months after I moved away for college. It’s my grandma’s handwriting off of the very first letter she wrote me. I found it after she died when I was going through a box of letters and cards my parents kept for me. She was … Continue reading My Tattoo Story: Phoebe
Objects, Memory and Meaning
If it can't be said in a hundred words, then it can't be said in a thousand.
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drink from the well of your self and begin again. -Charles Bukowski
Your Source For The Good Things Black People Do, Give and Receive All Over The World
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
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