Tattoos & Scars
The art and stories that mark the body I possess
Woot woot! I made it around town to the childish land of fun numbers once again! 1-6-9, victory is mine! š
For I am a silly goose, thatās no mystery, yet I am too a sentimental moose with a history. So, here's a little more insight into the person I am behind the screen you read, behind the simple image of my face you see. I'll try to keep this short and sweet (spoiler: I failed).
Yep, this nightmarish version of Spyro was my first tattoo! Sort of. In the summer of 2016, I got a small black skull with flames just to see what tattoos felt like. Felt perfectly fine, so naturally, I wanted more. For my 20th birthday, Spyro is what I wanted to get. And here's why.
I am an only child and as crazy as it sounds, I did not have many friends growing up. Back then, people didn't take too kindly to weirdos and I came out of the womb this way. On my first day of Kindergarten, I hid from the music teacher under the table because he reminded me of a bad guy I saw on Forensic Files. I refused to come out. From that day on, kids decided this chick was too odd to befriend. My best friend outside of home was my bus driver, Avis.
So, I spent my time reading, adventuring in the mountains, and playing video games, often to escape the lonely world I found myself in. Before my 7th birthday, my mom told me not to look in the closet because that's where she hid my gifts. Now, why would you tell a child that? I looked in the closet and peeked inside the gift bagā¦spotting a new PlayStation One and the game Spyro: Year of the Dragon.
I could have exploded with excitement right then and there. Instead of plundering through the bag to see what else was in store for my birthday, I closed the closet door and pretended nothing had happened. I knew all I needed to know.
Countless hours were spent playing that game over the course of my life, late into my teen years. It was one of my favorite escapes. When my mom told me she hated me due to a lack of cigarettes, I played Spyro for a week straight and tried to forget the words spoken to me. As you can see, I never forgot, but Spyro helped me compartmentalize many of the things that happened to me as a young child, including SA and being bullied.
I wanted this tattoo for many reasons. To remind me of the good parts of my childhood and how pain has made me a stronger, better person. That I can survive whatever is thrown my way. I did not realize that this tattoo would become such a large part of my identity.
In the town I've lived in for the last 12 years, I've worked public service jobs. After switching careers or when running errands, people would stop and say, āOh my God, I remember you! You were the friendly waitress with the Spyro tattoo!ā And that's what people seem to remember about me. The kindness and my purple dragon friend.
During my phlebotomy career, I would also distract toddlers with my Spyro tattoo and tell them how this dragon protects baby dragons, saving them from evil forces. By the time I got done with my cheesy tale secretly riddled with personal truth, the blood was drawn and the needle was out without much of a fuss at all. The key is connection.
With all that said, this tattoo holds a lot of deep meaning for me, and for others apparently. My Spyro needs a touch-up after 10 years and he was supposed to have Sparx (the dragonfly guy) with him, so I'll be getting this revamped whenever I find a trustworthy artist. Oh, there is a scar on his cheek, but I canāt remember why. Probably something fire-related, which is very ironic.
Next upā¦
This tattoo is on my back and I got it to support our first local female artist emerging into the tattooing profession, who happened to be a friend. Getting a tattoo on my back wasn't so badā¦until the vibrations could be felt through my spine.
This piece of art represents my love for traditional style tattoos, sunsets, the mountains, Stevie Nicks, and my desire to be free. If I could choose to live as an animal, a bird is what I would be. In my mind, I can feel the wind against feathers that gently flap to fly, savoring the taste of soaring through the sky. And the destination would be new, mine to choose, every single day.
The lyrics surrounding the tattoo are from the song Rhiannon, one of the songs I grew up listening to. My mom kind of sucks, but she does have good music taste that I'm glad to have inherited.
Funny thing about this tattooā¦it's often visible through my clothing choices and strangers behind me, say in a checkout line for instance, have touched my tattoo. I have nearly knocked the living daylights out of them from pure instinct. They almost got a taste of deez bows. No matter how enticing, please don't randomly touch peopleās tattoos, especially from behind! And here, I thought I was weird.
One more!
Yes, I have a giant Crash Bandicoot on my other arm! He was not supposed to be so large, and he should have had Aku Aku (tiki mask guy) behind him. I'm often unheard by people, not sure whyā¦Iām very loud. But still, it's a pretty cool tattoo that's also tied to my childhood, a little differently than Spyro.
My uncle Tim is someone who had a positive impact on my life, and he introduced me to the Crash Bandicoot games. We have very similar personalities and mindsets. On that same birthday I got the Spyro game, my mom gifted me another called Crash Bash, a multiplayer game. I would typically play on my own, but ever so often, I could talk my family into playing the game with me and this was one of my more positive memories.
Later in college, my best friend at the time was also a huge fan of the same video games. She brought her PlayStation 2 down from Indiana and I got my Crash Bash game from Hazard. We played the absolute hell out of it. Sidney was another positive part of my life, and if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have the life that I've been blessed with today. She kept me from moving back to my hometown after I became homeless and supported me in so many ways.
My Crash Bandicoot tattoo is all about the good vibes that game brought to my life. Less about escape, and more about connecting with the people around me through fun hobbies and common interests. A flip side, you could say.
Now, onto the scarsā¦
This knee has seen things. Scars are apparently difficult to photograph. My pale legs and naturally dark room don't help. If you can't tell, there are six scars here and none are from surgery, although I needed it after a particular injury.
The faintest scars are from my childhood, during a series of unfortunate events. In a short time frame, I busted my knee wrecking a bicycle on pavement, then from a hardcore playground fall, and again on the bike.
The deeper, more visible scars are from my early teens. And boy, when I tell you this, you will think Iām spouting fiction because it sounds so absurd. If you knew about Hazard and its long history of redneck shenanigans, then maybe it would sound more believable. One thing I say in my memoir about that town is, āHazard had Florida news headlines before it was cool.ā
In 8th grade, I got into a fight, and it wasā¦rough. The fight ended with me body slamming a girl against the lockers and accidentally hurting an innocent bystander. I'm still sorry, Keegan. That girl's sister, who was a senior, had it out for me when I began high school. She was short, stout, and mean as hell. Everyone called her Punky.
After a confrontation during a pep rally, Punky, her sister, and another girl decided to jump me at the city park one day, my usual hangout spot. They brought a tiny pocketknife and some box cutters, saying they were going to carve me like a pumpkin. I laughed and said, āCome the fuck on then.ā I could have been smarter in that moment, butā¦a part of me was/is crazy.
Due to the power of adrenaline, I don't remember exactly what happened after that. Most of it is a blur. All I know is I fought with everything I had before I got knocked off balance. Punky sat on my chest, holding my arms down, and the other two held my legs down. When Punky was distracted (I think I kicked her sister), I was able to pull an arm free and deliver an upward hammer fist to her noseābreaking it. That downpour of blood is one thing I remember clearly.
Shortly after, the police showed up and everyone scattered. That's when I realized that small pocket knife was loosely hanging from my leg, with more cuts surrounding it, and I was covered in bloodānot all my own. Alarmed, I pulled the knife out immediately. It wasnāt deep, but at the same time, deep enough. Luckily, no ligaments were damaged. I do think a nerve was nicked because my leg will occasionally give out from under me.
That day still feels like a fever dream. If it wasn't for the scars and probation (yes, I got in trouble for this), I would think it was one. Punky was 18 and served some jail time for this, not sure what happened to the others involved. A rumor went around that she wanted to carve her name into me, but I canāt tell that from the scars. Truly psycho behavior, either way.
Since that day, Iāve rarely traveled anywhere without a knife. A habit that has actually saved me from the despicable nature of some men on more than one occasion. Well, that and my craziness.
Okay, I think Iāve gone on for long enough. I have more tattoos and scars, trust me, just not worth rambling on about that much. Thereās a tacky snake wrapped around my wrist area. That poor tattoo artist was going through a divorce, and she really should have rescheduled me. I also have purple flowers near my umā¦knee pit?
Canāt forget all the burn scars, but most of them heal up pretty well. Back in the day, I would do fire tricks a lot when drinking and burned my fingers so much that I couldnāt use the fingerprint scanner at work to clock in anymore. The funny part was watching me try to lie and explain it away to management.
If you have any meaningful tattoos or wicked scars, Iād be honored if you shared your stories with me! I love learning about people and the history they carry. :)
From the bottom to the top of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read the things I write and encouraging me to share more, to be more vulnerable. I appreciate yāall so much. š
Wow. This post was a roller coaster of highs and lows. Congrats on hitting your number!
I was sad reading about some of the tough things you went through, the fights, bullying, your mom, and everything else. I know, as you said, those experiences helped shape the person you are today, but they still sound incredibly hard to have lived through.
Also, people are actually touching other peopleās tattoos? How crazy.
I was excited to see the Crash tattoo. I was a huge fan of the series. If I had to pick a gaming one to get from back then, Iād probably go Earthworm Jim. He was my guy.
Anyway, great post. Congrats again.
Came for Spyro, stayed for the ride.