Ink Layers

Getting a tattoo is weird. It's a deeply personal and permanent decision, so naturally we entrust it to... some rando with good reviews on Google. I kept wanting to find someone I knew, or even just a good referral from someone I trust. Alas, the one person that might've filled the criteria lives in a different province and is raising horses now. Go figure.

I'd come around the idea of getting a tattoo about a year ago, and it took a good 3-4 months to figure out what I wanted. And when it clicked, it clicked. I knew it was the right answer. And yet it took a while to build up the courage to act on it. It is, after all, still a thing of permanence. Maybe there's some lingering YOUR BODY IS A TEMPLE rhetoric pinging around my subconscious.

But last week I did indeed pull the trigger. It was uncomfortable at times, but generally tolerable and over quicker than I thought it'd be. Now I get to obsess over the aftercare and stress over the permanent being permanently ruined if I don't keep it adequately covered. A corner of the second skin has peeled about 5mm and now I'm paranoid, even though it has to travel another 35 to reach the artwork itself.

Speaking of which: I wanted to choose something with adequate layers of interpretation. I was afraid of doing something that could be boiled down to I like cars so I got a car tattoo. I didn't always like cars and I don't know if I always will like cars either. The same thing applies to most of the things that've crossed through my life. That whole Favourite Thing paradigm is too temporal for an obsessive and restless mindset. But I remember the instant the right idea came along, and I never really had any doubts about it.

On the surface it represents the fundamental elements of design. It's also a geeky nod to my formative years behind a computer monitor. It represents a long journey that culminates in a destination permanently locked behind a gate. It is frustration and mystery, it's entropy's gravestone. It's something's absence. It's a joke that no one wants at their expense, and reminder that what you go looking for may not always be found. It's the postcard and the destination. Just as much a placeholder as the real deal, and a reckoning of the two. When combined with my professional aspirations, which I've dedicated so much of my life to with debatable outcomes, it's kind of a cruel reminder that you are not your job. Or perhaps you are not anything for long. Life is short, after all.

Anyways, here it is:

My grandmother passed away a couple weeks ago. I don't know if she would've approved of a tattoo or if she would've even understood what it depicted in the first place. But I know she still would've accepted me all the same. And her passing was part of the secret sauce to push me over the edge and get the tattoo done. So maybe it's also a reminder of the things you loved that are no more but you carry still.

It is nothing that can be everything. It's a perfect dichotomy that I can reinterpret ad nauseum and even hide behind. It's every hope and anxiety and existential angst forever. And, maybe, it's also a bit of acceptance. An empty glass is still a glass, after all. So, cheers.

-Cril

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

Jenny & Tyler feat. Sara Groves - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Shutterspeed 1/2

 Hey Reg. I did it, I got new batteries - all three of them. Yeah, the main ones were toast, but when I charged and put them in, things still weren't working. I thought maybe the camera had bricked entirely until I found a reference to a small coin-cell battery. Lo and behold, that was what I was missing. The camera went with me to Nova Scotia and performed its duties admirably.

I thought I'd post the photos on Flickr for old time's sake, but my account had long since filled up beyond its limits. I don't regret cancelling my Pro subscription a few years ago - looking at the site now, it's evident that nothing has changed recently. I think it's a dying platform.

Anyways, here are some photos. Consider them Creative Commons with Attribution, if there's anyone out there that still cares for such things.

I had a few more edited photos that I'm not going to post because they just don't quite warrant it. And way more photos I didn't even bother touching up that'll never see the light of day. Them's the breaks, I suppose - I'm not a photographer. But that doesn't mean I can enjoy the process, and it got me to look a bit closer at the world for a while. For that reason, the camera served its purpose even after lugging it around for a couple weeks.

We ended up staying in an old caboose at a decommissioned train station in Tatamagouche. It was really cool, and the original station was still there and used as the office/gift shop/cafe. Despite my best efforts, I just couldn't find a good photo anywhere for me to take. Hopefully you don't hold it against me. Still, I think you would've loved it.

I wonder if you'd ever visited the east coast. I bet you would've loved it. Oh well, the only answer to that question is long lost to time. At least your camera helped me stop time for myself in a few different spots.

-Cril