Whitney's Sunflowers

When I walked into Moto’s room at the tattoo shop to meet Whitney, I was overcome by a sensation of utter peacefulness.

With the exception of her left arm and shoulder, where Moto was working on a beautiful tangle of earthy sunflowers with interwoven strips of film, Whitney was wrapped up in a zebra print Snuggy, head back, eyes closed, relaxing into each deep and purposeful breath.

She looked so comfy and cozy, in such a state of meditative bliss that I hated to interview her. I didn’t want to disrupt her peace and focus with a barrage of questions that would require her to think and talk and interact instead of finding comfort in that very moment while being tattooed.

I certainly plan on doing my own research throughout this process because I am curious and inquisitive; I love research and learning; and, I am proud to say, I am just a geek like that. I imagine there are all sorts of psychological research studies that deal with the physiology of tattoos and how tattoos affect the pain and pleasure centers in the brain, but this will be another blog. Note to self.

Whitney’s serenity immediately made her interesting – as did the sunflowers searching for sunlight along her upper arm and shoulder area. It is only natural that the first question I ask relates to the sunflowers and their significance to her; it goes without saying that she could have chosen from any wide variety of flowers that decorate our planet, but Whitney wanted sunflowers. A woman after my own heart.

“I knew I wanted sunflowers because they are my favorite flowers. They have so much inspiration. They are happy and I always loved how they follow the sun,” she said. “And I liked the fact that the gold wasn’t too different from my skin color.”

As we continued to talk, Whitney made a statement I have thought many times myself: “Sometimes it’s easy to forget to be happy.”

I’m not sure that this is true for everyone. There are some people who seem to be happy the majority of the time.

Optimists who always see a half-full glass and approach the world with an unyielding positivity. I have always envied people like this, because I have spent so much of my life looking at the worst case scenario. Since college (and really before then if I think about it), I have battled depression and anxiety issues that make it challenging for me to be the bubbling fountain of positivity I wanted to be. Being optimistic is something I have had to practice. Something I still practice. There are days when I struggle, but I have made so much progress.

I’ve heard Moto say several times now – the longer you don’t quit, the better you get. This is true with anything in life. Training the mind to perceive situations in a more positive manner is no different.

Whitney is an artist. She works in a salon and creates hair styles. Any profession that finds you sitting behind or across from someone in your chair immediately thrusts you into the role of counselor and confidant. Every time I get my hair cut and colored, I walk away feeling like I have also had a therapy session.

Remembering to be happy can be difficult, Whitney confided, especially if and when she has clients who are going through things or personal issues. This statement speaks volumes about how much she cares about people and what they might be coping with at any given moment. She is sensitive and compassionate, which, I think to myself (like me), makes her somewhat vulnerable. The unique ability to both sympathize and empathize are amazing character attributes; they also open the human heart wide, and can make one subject to feeling another’s pain or sadness.

Sunflowers, bright, strong and confident are open wide to the light and warmth of the sunshine, much like Whitney opens her mind and heart allowing other people to share their stories. Having them tattooed on her shoulder is a consistent reminder, she says, “of a little something you can look at to make you smile.”

Whitney told me that throughout her own personal journey, she has learned to talk more.

“Growing up I didn’t share myself with people. I didn’t know how to express emotions. And I still struggle as an adult, but I can express myself now. I’m in the best relationship I’ve ever had. And it works – not only because he’s great and perfect for me, but he’s that person that I know I can talk to. The good, the bad, whatever – he’s there – and I can just lay it all out. And being able to do that is the only way it helps.”

Like the sunflowers on her shoulder, I cannot help but make the analogy that Whitney continues to blossom and open in her own life.

In her state of serenity, I hated the idea of bombarding Whitney with questions. Naturally, I wondered why she didn’t share herself or her emotions much growing up. Why it was a struggle. My hope is to recommend with her to ask these questions, as I am doing my diligence to not analyze people (though the counselor in me makes that difficult).

The juxtaposition of the filmstrip – something man-made thus a drastic difference compared to the natural growth and development of sunflowers – literally captures talent, creativity, moments of raw and genuine emotion in each frame – compelled me to ask the questions what and why?

“The film strip. That we’ll do later. The base is already there. It’s because I love movies. It’s always something I wanted,” Whitney said. “Growing up, we didn’t really watch cable. We watched movies all the time. And that was always special. So I thought to incorporate that, but also make it more personal if I put things that kind of describe the person I am in the film strip slots.”

I would be remiss not to ask Whitney what her plans for the filmstrip slots were. “I have a lot of ideas. Definitely something to do with music. I have a huge passion to hear it, play it, watch it, everything. Something to do with hair. And then I have several other ideas – maybe a cross or something to represent my upbringing. Who knows? I don’t want to make any hasty decisions.”

Whitney’s tattoo is a beautiful work in progress. My hope, of course, is that she will allow me to follow her on her journey as she and Moto develop pieces for the filmstrip and continue to work on the piece as a whole.

I typically have a difficult time leaving “things” incomplete. As I continue through this journey, I am reminded that, like everything else in my life, this project, this blog, my dream of creating a complete and publishable book are works in progress. Our personal journeys and stories, I suspect, are never fully complete. As we grow and evolve, so do all of the moments of meaning in our lives.

This is only the beginning of Whitney’s story. Of this, I am positive. Again, my hope is that she will continue to share her story with me as it develops. 

Alchemy

It might seem as though I have been slack in the writing department. I assure you, I have not. Whether or not it gets put on paper, my brain is constantly writing. Ideas flash through the grey matter at alamaring (not really - it is not a schizophrenic flight of ideas and to steal from my favorite Sheldon Cooper - "I'm not crazy. My mother had me tested!")

While I am playing catch-up on my interview transcription and blog posts, I thought I would share one of my recent columns from the paper - that would be The Pickens County Courier. I have a weekly column and if you subscribe and say you are subscribing because of my column, I might get a raise or at least begin making above minimum wage (wink, wink - nod, nod) ... Geez! I am on a Sassy role this morning. Must be the high octance coffee.

This "post" might not relate to tattooing per se, but it does relate to one of my tattoos (story to come) and I think it will connect as this project unfolds. That said .....

I imagine most people are fairly conventional when it comes to relationships.

Two people meet and begin dating. They take ample time to get to know one another, to develop trust, emotional intimacy, strong communication processes. Maybe they also develop a physical intimacy built, again, on trust and communication. They share their individual needs and wants and begin to dream of a future together making those hopes and desires a reality.

At some point, they decide they want to get married, so they get engaged. The engagement process is typically proportional in time measurement to the months and (or) years leading up to the engagement. The couple gets married and settles into life together. Maybe they start a family. They evolve as a unit built on a foundation of unconditional love and acceptance. Mutual respect and appreciation.

I’m certain it will come as no surprise to my regular readers that I see love from a slightly unorthodox perspective, which is to say that the romantic in me believes in love at first sight and soul mates. The notion that God, in all of his infinite wisdom, has divinely created perfect matches that he unites when the timing is correct.

Recently I reread my copy of Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist (an AMAZING book if you’ve never read it). In hindsight, I believe that I was drawn to the novel at the perfect time last year. My Mom had recently been diagnosed with Breast Cancer, and my world felt like it was crumbling around me. Looking back, it was also around this time that my marriage was slowly unraveling, stitch by stitch.

The book offered me a renewed spiritual peace from which I was able to cope with the massive changes taking place in my life at that time. It made me feel grounded and it gave me hope for the future.

As I read back through it, the following passage caught my attention: “At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him …. he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke – the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs here at the well. She smiled, and that was certainly an omen – the omen he had been awaiting, without even knowing he was, for all his life.”

“It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world. He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed. But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language. Because when you know that language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.”

I find myself exploring this possibility because – without even being consciously aware of it – I have ascribed to this philosophy my entire life. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: I believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that everything – good or bad – just or unjust – happens for a reason.

Everything we experience in our lives – the challenges, the triumphs, the failures, the setbacks, the joy and sorrow, pain and heartache – all of these things mould and shape us into the people we are supposed to be. Following the Biblical analogy where God is the potter and we are the clay – being ever shaped into the most perfect form of ourselves at the exact moment in our lives when it is imperative.

There was a time when I thought my hopelessly romantic nature was silly. Childish. My perspective, however, has shifted. I believe in the divinity of soul mates because I believe that God’s love is limitless.

The biggest problem in my marriages has been that I have lacked God as a foundation. Ever the control freak, I wanted to be in charge of every detail rather than giving it up to God and allowing Him to take the reins. I lacked faith, instead allowing myself to be consumed by fear and uncertainty.

I am saying good-bye to fear as the guiding force in my life, and replacing it with Faith, Hope and the knowledge that, with God, nothing is impossible. 

Always Remeber I Love You My Molly Mugwump

Today is my Mom’s 69^th Birthday. She has distinctively beautiful handwriting – so unique that it took loads of practice to forge her signature on notes when I skipped school. No matter how diligently I practiced, it never was exact.

A few months ago I asked her to write something to me, so that I could have a tattoo done in her handwriting. She handed me a slip of paper upon which she had written “Always Remember I Love You My Molly Mugwump.”

In honor and celebration of her birthday, Moto tattooed the message on my left ankle, swirling it somewhat around the Hamsa I had done six years ago (another incredibly emotional story for another day).

When Moto finished, I looked down and felt tears flood into my eyes. With the ink smears wiped away, there was this vivid blank handwriting that looked amazing and more than being aesthetically pleasing, I have a piece of my Mom that I will carry with me forever – not that I wouldn’t carry her in my heart, mind and soul; the tattoo, however, is a constant reminder of her unconditional love and support.

Last May my Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Thankfully, they caught it in the early stages. She had a lumpectomy followed by six weeks of radiation therapy. Currently she is on an oral form of chemotherapy that is, somewhat, more mild than if she were receiving it IV. Still, it hasn’t been a walk in the park.

My parents divorced when I was three, and I am essentially an only child (I have a half sister who is eleven years my junior and we did not grow up together. She lived in Montana with our Dad and my Step-Mom, and I lived in Miami). Mom was a single parent in every sense of the word.

Geography, it would seem, made it difficult for my Dad to play an active role in my life. Long distance didn’t make for a warm and fuzzy or close relationship. Mom pretty much did it all – worked to support us, made sure I did well in school, helped with homework, took care of me when I was sick, encouraged me in everything I dreamed of doing. She cooked and cleaned; chauffeured me to and fro the destination du jour. She held me when I cried and joined in when I laughed.

My mother taught me – by example – the meaning of genuine, unconditional love and selflessness.

When I was a little girl, missing my Dad, crying in bed at night, my Mom used to sing “My Blue Heaven.” I always remember her changing that one lyric to “just Molly and me, and Sooters (we had a cat named Soot) makes three” offering assurance that the three of us were going to be OK. That we were going to make it.

Although my name is Nicole, the nickname Molly stuck. To Molly, my Mom added Mugwump, which she explained is a bird who has his ‘mug’ on one side and his ‘wump’ on the other. To her, I have always been and will always be Molly Mugwup.  That is one of the amazing things about Moms – something I didn’t fully grasp until I became a Mom myself: No matter how old your children are, in some ways they will forever be the little babies you snuggled against your chest while they slept and dreamed and smelled so milky sweet and perfect.

Finding out she had cancer was devastating for us both. Despite our faith in God, the idea of losing someone you love is heartbreaking. She and I have been together for thirty-five years. She still lives with us. She has been present for every event in my daughters’ lives just like she was for mine.

When she told me she had found a lump in her breast, it was almost as if time stopped and the world came to a screeching halt around me. How would we tell the girls? How would I comfort them and still be able to grieve myself? Who would I drink coffee with in the morning? Who would wander around Wal-mart with me on a Saturday afternoon?  Or listen to my ideas involving duct tape and furniture? Who would beam with pride at every accomplishment? Or read every article in the paper with my byline? Who would offer me reassurance when I felt like life was falling apart? Or tell me not to beat myself up for not doing something that measures up to my insanely impossible perfectionist standards?

I had talked to Moto a few months about wanting to have this tattoo done so I would always have my Mom’s handwriting – a visual, ever present echo of her love for me – as a literal part of me the way she has always been such a huge part of my life. Today, her birthday, seemed like the perfect occasion to have this tattoo done.

One year later, my Mom is cancer free. She is still on the oral chemo, and I have noticed a gradual slowing down. Through everything, she has not missed one day of work nor has she ceased to be active with me and her granddaughters. I find her absolutely inspiring and amazing. I do my best to enjoy each and every moment I have with her, because I know that she is not going to be around forever.

 And when the day comes that I can’t share a cup of coffee with her in the morning, I will forever be able to see her unending, unconditional love written like a soft whisper and a warm hug on my skin.

Beginnings...

It is amazing how things in the universe come together when the timing is right.

I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I started working on my first mystery novel in 3^rd grade. I think I managed to write two or three chapters before I was easily sidetracked by something else; I was only eight after all.

I’ve had other starts and stops between then and now, but in all this time, my desire to write has never dissipated despite being put on the back burner for a variety of reasons like graduate school, child bearing, bill paying … you know how it goes.

Today has been a pivotal day. Today is the day I begin my journey toward the actual writing and completion of a book.

I am both amazed and overwhelmed by the possibilities.

One morning not too long ago, I woke up with the idea about writing a book that focuses on the stories behind people’s tattoos. I let it mull around in my mind and decided that this is a journey I need to take – that I want to take.

My working plan, which I assume will evolve along with the process, is to interview anyone and everyone interested in sharing the story or meaning behind their tattoos. It is as simple as that. They talk. I listen. I record the interview. I write it out. I edit it. I take photographs. Then, at some point, I take all of these amazing stories and incredible art work and I craft them into a book. This is my ultimate goal.

People and words are my professional passions. I’ve had careers in teaching (English) and counseling. My most recent “profession” has been newspaper reporting and being a full-time, hands-on Mom 99.9% of the time. Writing, for me, has been the perfect marriage of things I love.

Growing up in Miami, Florida laid the foundation for what I think is an inclusive perspective when it comes to people and the world around me. I think people should be celebrated for their differences and those things that make them special and unique.

Each of us has a story to tell. Truth be told, we have more than one. As a reporter, and when I worked as a counselor, I love listening to people’s stories – where they’ve been, what they’ve done, how they’ve gotten from Point A to Point B and the journey in between.

For the last two years, I have been working as a reporter for the Pickens County Courier based in Pickens, SC. My regular beat finds me covering local government and school board meetings, but some of my favorite pieces and assignments are the human interest stories.

My editor has always given me a lot of latitude when working on our features section. In June of 2011, I came up with the idea of spending time at Amber Island, talking with the tattoo artists and some of the clients coming in to have tattoos done. The culmination of work wound up with a Lifestyles Page cover story and art work which, to this day, remains one of my favorite pieces.

Tattoos have fascinated me since I was a teenager – about 15 to be exact. That is the year that I will forever mark in my mind as my year of rebellion against the norm. I started listening to The Doors, Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix. I read J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, Zora Neal Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God and Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. I started to lose the weight that had made me a social outcast and scapegoat for insecure bullies.

Without knowing it, or being consciously aware, I began a long journey toward acceptance of myself for being different: for not having a Dad in my life, for not being the perfect size two, for not being terribly athletic, artistic or the class valedictorian. 

The day I turned 18, my friend Jimmy, (who was in his 20s) bought me a bottle of Absolut Vodka. I mixed it with Diet Coke and lime – had a couple of drinks – and decided I was ready to go get the tattoo I had been wanted for the last three years and knowing, full-well, that my straight-laced, conservative mother was going to flip!

Since that time I have acquired more tattoos – each of which marks a milestone in my life or, for me, is a remembrance of some moment when I learned something about myself, who I am, who I want to be. If anyone asked, I have a story that accompanies each piece of art work on my body.

I can’t begin to fathom – well, obviously I can since I’ve had this idea – the number of stories out there begging to be told.

Fortunately, as I have gotten my own tattoos, I have developed a friendship of sorts with two amazing tattoo artists at Amber Island in Easley – Moto and Jesse. As soon as I discovered this idea rattling around in my brain, I ran it by Moto. Amber Island is his shop, and I hoped that he would embraced my idea – the way he has embraced our friendship – and that he would allow me the opportunity to try to make a go of this project using the client base from his studio.

He dug the idea. As did Jesse. I totally adore those guys and I can already tell I am going to be thanking them immensely for this opportunity to allow me to grow as a writer and human being. I can feel the love and support already – just in these beginning stages. This is going to be a most excellent journey.

Anyway, I stopped by the shop today with the initial paperwork and project scope and explanation I put together. My idea was well received and, I think, as they say, we are in business. I have my first interview scheduled for this Friday.

I will be as diligent about updating this blog as possible. Please check back often. Feel free to comment, share a story, offer suggestions, and lend your support and enthusiasm. I am wide open and ready to receive everything that the universe wants to throw my way.

I’m ready for a new beginning. Bring it on!