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January 19, 2010

I got this new tattoo on Saturday.  I did it because it means something to me.  Because I have lived a hard life and I can’t even begin to tell about it on this little blog.  Because I need a reminder that I am alright, so I can keep moving forward.

I took these first two photos a few hours after I had it done.  The man who did it got it just right, he was super.  Liz came with me, she sat next to me and knit.  There was a man next to me getting a graveyard piece on his entire back, not my kind of thing, but the artistry was beautiful.  If you are serious about finding out who did this for me send me an email and I will give you the info.

The word “contrite” apears in Psalm 51:17 . . . The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not dispise.  When I first decided on this idea as a tattoo I really wanted it on this spot, but I thought that I would go with a good chunk of the line like this:

“a broken spirit:

a broken and

contrite heart”

But it would have to be too large for the forearm, so I figured I would get it on the outside of my calf.  But I was thinking, too, that my only regret with my first tattoo is  that it is in a spot where I can’t really see it.  I really wanted it where I can look at it all the time, and I figured just the one word is not as creepy seeming as the whole bit.  I think what I ended up with worked out perfect.

Here is a photo I took today.   I tried to wear long sleeves, but the shirt kept rubbing off the ointment and letting it dry out, so I rolled up the sleeves.  This afternoon a woman spotted it and asked me if it was a stamp.  The woman at the desk next to me is a hoot, she told me that i should have gotten a cat and a dog on my chest so that I could push the clevage together and “make them fight.”  HA!

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