Note: I'm throwing my hat into the A-Z Blogging challenge sponsored by Tossing it out! What you will be reading via the letters A-Z is a little bio about me. This will give you a glimpse into my work world and what I do when I'm not here - blogging.
I was about nineteen when I got my learner’s permit for motorcycling. I used to borrow my brother's bike, a two-stroke, 350cc Suzuki.
I loved that bike - off the line it was a bullet. It was a rush when the “big bikes” would pull up along side at an intersection and give me the nod.
Yeah - let’s see what you’ve got - that was always my thinking. The light would change and I’d be off that line so fast you could only wonder if I had been there in the first place.
Speed demon - I always wanted to race cars - I grew up watching the Indy 500 - glued to the telly and imagining myself behind the wheel of the winner's car. (well dream big or go home that's my motto)
I was even a bit of a local legend at the go-cart track, where I hung out and taunted the boys into racing me - the mistake made by those young pups was to think of me as a girl.
Oh, to be sure, I’m a girl - love being a girl - but because my mother wanted her second child to be a boy (that would be me - kid #2) I think I’ve got more than my share of “the guy genes” in me - hammers, hogs, and heavy machinery make me happy!
Now, the reason for the preamble is to set the stage for my story…
Back at age nineteen -
One fine sunny day I was out for a ride and needed to tank up - next to me was a gal filling up a very impressive customized 650cc Yamaha - teardrop tank, slightly extended forks, and enough polished chrome to blind you on a sunny day.
We gave each other the nod - but me, ever the talkative type started in on a “bike” conversation, acknowledging hers and talking about mine.
One thing lead to another and she pipes up that I should follow her to a house party she’s going to and, unbeknownst to me, was also the guest of honour.
Ever the curious type (right after talkative) I nodded in approval and off we went.
We didn’t have far to go which was too bad because I really wanted to see what she could do with her bike. I’ll never know because in short order we were in front of this old three storey house.
Hanging out of windows and draped around front porch pillars was this motley crew of very burly bad boys - okey, dokey - says me to myself - this should be interesting.
They are hooting and hollering to her and giving me that nod…
She jumps off her bike and flips off her helmet (it’s the law here in Canada) and seems very excited to see her friends.
There is some kind of verbal exchange that somehow has something to do with tattoos and the one that she had recently acquired.
Next thing I know, she’s unzipping her very tight jeans, flipping up her top and there across her womanly bits is this tattoo - GATEWAY TO HEAVEN.
I have, on occasion, wondered what ever became of Miss Gateway to Heaven, and her tattoo. Over the years, had the gateway been left in disrepair and seeped into its aging foundation, which in youth is so firm and fresh; yes, these thoughts do intrigue me as do tattoos.
Of the four of us siblings, I’m the only one without a tattoo - somehow indelible ink isn’t for me. I do not want to go through life marked, in one stage of it, with something I am not sure will transcend the coming years. Something so permanent is off my radar.
That being said…
In my line of work I do cosmetic tattooing - specializing in eyebrows. Now, should my own lovely brows ever need the help of indelible ink I would succumb and embrace the permanence.
Do you have indelible ink hiding on your canvas?