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Red Lipstick & Green Ink [userpic]

I may never understand the desire for tattoos.

August 24th, 2006 (07:19 am)

I love them...on other flesh.
I look at Ben's bright colours that drape half his torso......

They are very sexy.

I think it may be the very element that attracts me to them in others
that causes me to recoil myself.


Since I was 20...
Brian Belt was a beau of mine when I lived in the LA basin....
He did good work, and was sought after. He had a name, where I was.
I would draw things in a little black velvet journal...ideas.
What I might want....he wanted so much to put the needle to me.

Virgin skin.

Anything, he said, ANYTHING.....free.
I scrawled away in my velvet journal..........and then ran from the LA basin
home to my parents.

Their home was North Carolina at the time.
I worked as a manager at the Musicland there my 21st year.

In the Maul.

Escaped the ink.

And year after year escaped it again.
When every one had something on their arm or their ankle or their ass.

When the 90's ended I found myself in the arms of an inked man who whispered
in my ear that he thought it was sexy that my skin was unmarked.

I held that whisper in my ear, I suppose I still do.

I have tan lines now, from Opals.
My face and shoulders......
First tan I have had since the 80's
when I lived on a tropical island and rode my bicycle everywhere.

I'm not fond of the marks.
I see the lines in my face deepen.

Crinkles at my eyes and freckles on my shoulders.

I can't stay frog belly green forever...........
There is SPF 30 in the bathroom where I brush my teeth,
but I never remember to slather myself in it.

I suppose marks come with the work.
I loved my knife callous from ZEN.
It was a badge of courage.
100 LBS of onions a day.........and the books.

It's very nearly gone now, I suppose the tan lines from Opals
will be too, one day.

I won't miss them like I do my knife callous.

How do you chose your ink, my Friends?
When did you decide to get your first?

How do you feel in it?

Tell me a story.


Posted by: dabroots (dabroots)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 12:40 pm (UTC)

Nice musings on the subject of tattoos.

A few years ago, I briefly dated a very large woman who was pretty much covered with tattoos from her ankles to her chin. All of the animals of various sorts. It was like going to bed with a children's book printed on a human being.

A youngish woman in one of my classes has shapely arms that are covered with tattoos. I'll have to watch myself.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:36 pm (UTC)

Ah yes...


I love your storybook image, nice.

Posted by: They call me 'Benton' (die7fox)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 12:46 pm (UTC)

The one you see in the icon is actually my second. It's based on a design that already existed, but I had the artist add the colored bit and the rainbow barbed wire, which you can't really make out in the picture. I wanted something there to symbolize how hard the struggle for gays to get equal rights has been; hence the barbed wire.

Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 02:51 pm (UTC)

Power to you.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:37 pm (UTC)


Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 02:46 pm (UTC)

As they say....and I suspect its true,tats come at a time of change,a time of becoming.
My first ink came at a time when I was mixed up with a magical American lady(married) while I was in the throes of a soft destructive meltdown of my own marriage.I was very far from being a man then.
The image within the circular band is the ear ring she wore,she was a sun worshipper. The tat was done by an independant artist who did the work useiong a homemade set of gear,I was in training to follow in his footsteps and become an inker myself but he had to take off for Berlin sharpish,and my apprentiship was too short lived.
And now.....when my daughter sophia is born,her handprint over my heart will be the next ink laid down,right over my heart.
I have soooo yearned for a daughter.
And Jake,my proud,strong young son....he'll blow me a kiss and that will be set beside his sister's hand.


Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:40 pm (UTC)

you make me cry...so easily.


You are so beautiful.

Posted by: barry_barry (barry_barry)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 02:48 pm (UTC)
soviet sign

Still working on mine. I know I want my first to involve the scars on my shoulder from my motorcycle wreck. Marshall is still coming up with something. I'm not sure why I want Marshall to come up with the design, it's just something that seems... right. He's a wonderful artist, and we have such funny conversations, with very few words, which, to me, is almost the essence of a tattoo. It's a conversation withOUT words. I can't believe that people walk into shops and point at something on a wall, and say "That one!" How can that mean ANYTHING? It seems so unlikely that you'd be able to find a bulk design that has a deep meaning. I guess a design can just happen to ring deeply with you, but it seems so unlikely.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:44 pm (UTC)

Marshall is a PERFECT choice...
I bought one of his paintings for elitistbill years ago as a birthday present...

It was the only thing he recovered after Katrina from his New Orleans home
that meant anything to him. It was water soaked and he had to have it re-streched on
another wooden frame--but it survived.

Marshall has that kind of Magik.

Excellent choice, yes...

Posted by: Coffee Shop Whore (skidspoppe)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 03:18 pm (UTC)

The jester's hat on my calf started because my sister wanted to get a matching tattoo with me. She already had two or three back then (11 years ago now) and thought it would be cool for brother and sister to have mathed designs.

I lived down the street from the shop. It was on the beach in Venice and she was down for the weekend visiting me. She had gone down there to hang out (they had done her other work as well) and she came back to my place clutching a simple design of what I wanted, a Fool's Cap (Foolscap also being the medieval word for writing paper - it all ties in, eh?). I thought about it but was very nervous.

I was also quite poor. When I asked how much it might cost, the $40 quote was WAY out of my price range. I told her this, escaping the permanent marking. She handed me two twenties, laughed, and away we went to get inked.

I was unsure about it until the moment the needle bit my skin. Then I was hooked. There's something primitive about it, something tribal. A rite of passage almost.

Of course, so far I only have the one. I do, however, have an artist designing the next one (a playing card, coming to life in classic MC Escher style, and brandishing a pen against the world) and will hopefully have it adorning my shoulder before the ball drops and 06 becomes 07.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:45 pm (UTC)

Cannot wait to see it.
Sounds perfect.

Posted by: hairypolack (hairypolack)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 07:59 pm (UTC)

"But trust me on the sunscreen"

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 24th, 2006 08:51 pm (UTC)


I will try to remember it tomorrow.

Posted by: Gregory Parks (tokenpants)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 02:07 am (UTC)

Have thought about ink, but I always decide it's not for me and there's nothing that I want on my body that much that I want it there permanently. I have joked about getting dots tattoed on my birthmark shaped like North Carolina; the dots would be the cities I've played on tour.

I also think an uninked body is extra sexy. Tats can be beautiful or stupid, hackneyed, or artful, but they seldom turn me on. I found during a night with a friend in Minneapolis last fall (of which there is an LJ entry somewhere) that one of the myriad alluring and beautiful things about her body was that she had not one drop of ink on it. She is stunning, intelligent, talented, gorgeous, and busy. She doesn't call much and it hurt more after the night together. I can still call up the image of her on that night: so very beautiful. I wasn't ready for her beauty.

I like seeing the moles and birthmarks and such. I express myself in other way, I guess. Ink's not for me.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 05:14 am (UTC)

Your way.......is very expressive.

Posted by: a (ohchicken)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 03:25 am (UTC)
my first blue star.

here's the story of my first ink experience in 2003:

the day is impossibly grey, and cannot decide whether it is jacket or simply long sleeve weather. i've kept both in my car in case. the day is also not sure if it's a rainy kind of grey or drink-your-tea-on-the-porch grey. i don't care. i'll take it any way it sings.

i wrote in my iona journal last year that it's amazing how a little light can make blue out of grey. sometimes we force the light (which is why we created electricity in the first place, i think) when there is nothing to see by, and i'm doing that. screwing lightbulbs everywhere. lighting every candle.

i wrote a lot about the constancy of stars last year. the stars were my icons of the majesty and immanence of God. i needed the stars badly when living in depression and belfast, where clouds are everywhere and all the time, pervasive. clear-sky patches are promises that there is sky behind all these clouds.

i took to drawing stars on my hands, on my wrists, as reminders of this. of all of this. last fall, you could not see me without seeing smudged ink between my thumb and forefinger. red stars. green ones. blue. black. whatever pen i had. every day.

the icons became the prayers sometimes. when words failed me, i drew. when fear overcame me, i drew.

monday was impossible. i woke up afraid of my life. i sobbed. uncontrollably. with rage and fear and no release. i had dry heaves. my whole body shook. i felt like i was suffocating, that this season and all its pain was really, really going to kill me. i wanted to give up. let it all go. but i didn't know what that meant.

so i went to a coffee shop and drank a beer at 11 am. stared at the blue sky. drove aimlessly, still crying, for another hour. i went to a place called the cat shoppe and held a wayward kitty on my lap, as it purred and curled up close to my belly. and then i knew what i had to do to get through the afternoon: i needed the constancy of stars.

but i was so tired of drawing them over and over, only to have them washed off as soon as i wash my hands or shower. i needed CONSTANCY. i needed the God who NEVER leaves or forsakes. so i went to a tattoo shop, said i needed a blue star on my shoulder, and sat down and let it happen.

it didn't hurt. yes, there was pain, but it was release. like marlei told me later, the pain on the inside needed to be manifested somehow on the outside. after 20 minutes, a bright blue star sat on my left shoulder blade, a prayer that will be prayed on my body for as long as i'm alive.

i don't even know what the prayer is for, and maybe it's not FOR anything. maybe it's taking what little left i have of my own life and saying, my God, my God, this is all i have left. i never knew that being broken could mean being THIS broken, but i'm still alive. and i still believe. help my unbelief. i need.

i am in a tanktop now, raw blue prayer on my back, aching and itching, but permanent.

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 05:28 am (UTC)
blue out of grey.
Holy Shit Happens



wow, annie.
I didn't know.

you are so beautiful.

I did know that, I have always known that............

Posted by: a (ohchicken)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 05:32 am (UTC)
Re: blue out of grey.

thank you ginger.

wanna help us move?

Posted by: Red Lipstick & Green Ink (ginger931)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 06:42 am (UTC)
Re: blue out of grey.
Boy Of Steel


And I even have some KILLER robot boxes.

I know a guy with a truck....and a BEAR with a big big VAN.

All of them love you and yours.

I will so help you move.
With any and all of my reasources and my sweat.

I am your girl.

Posted by: barry_barry (barry_barry)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 06:26 pm (UTC)
Re: blue out of grey.

Indeed, my van is rickety and fussy, but it is yours when you need it.

Posted by: emily (tugena13)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 05:21 pm (UTC)

i was at a crossroads of life... just finished my bachelor's degree, not sure where i was going or what i was doing. i wanted a reminder of who i was, where i came from, what i wanted to stay true to, etc. (music, art, truth, beauty, youth, weirdness/counterculture... even though tattoos aren't really all that counterculture anymore) so i got a reproduction of man ray's "le violin de ingres" on my back (as featured in this icon). i can hide it if i want, i can show it off if i want... i actually sat down with my parents before i got it, 'cause i wanted to make sure they were cool with it. they didn't understand why i needed to get a tattoo, but they liked what i'd chosen. i actually picked my design and then held on to it for a year to make sure that was still what i wanted.

Posted by: Glenn (gev)
Posted at: August 25th, 2006 09:06 pm (UTC)
still haven't...

but when I think about it, I usually think impossible triangle,
perhaps with one or more sides 'piercing' the skin...

Posted by: Public Joy Killing Birthday Gang (bloodlossgirl)
Posted at: August 28th, 2006 01:46 pm (UTC)

I have three. A triad that means something to me, anyway. In my t'ai-chi training I learned some qigong sequences as well, and somewhere or somehow I heard or read that there's a theory of qigong that there are "three treasures": chi (energy), shen (spirit), and jing (sexual essence). It took me a while to get all three, but I have, at times when it was important to do so. The first, pictured in this icon, after I broke up with my first love. The second was bought for me by my bestest Jillian. The third I got two weeks before I met sleepingzebras.

Here's a longer, and better, meaning of ink to me:

Soul matters . Written in 2002.

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