Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Tattoo Tuesdays: Open to Interpretation

Perhaps you have heard the scripture, "Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect,"*. We live in an increasingly curious, some would say nosey, world. We live in an age of TMI to the extreme, but still there are some things we should always be willing and ready to share. Faith is a huge can of worms, but it is as essential as air in my opinion. The older I get the more I realize how important it is to have an answer for just about any curious/nosey question that comes my way. (insert schoolmarm voice) "Decorum Madelyne!"

I am not saying that your life and your choices have to be an open book, but I am saying don't be caught unaware. The times I have been caught off guard by a line of questioning usually set my hackles off and I go into defensive mode. "Why do you want to know? Are you judging me? You are just a gossiping busybody." That is not always true, though. Einstein said, "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." Some folks are masters of curiosity and have an eager desire to constantly be learning about the people living their lives day to day around them.

Honesty can be refreshing.

Recently my older sister's boyfriend "put me through the ringer" of questioning about the bookstore and other "life line 'me' things". Among one of his questions, "So why the wolves?" At first I thought he was referring to some of the cheap cards we are desperately trying to sell at the shop (bye bye old less desirable inventory). Then I figured out he was referring to my Mudlove band featuring a howling wolf. I suppose it never occurred to me (hence this post) to have an explanation for my love of wolves. Needless to say I was little fluster because my love of wolves is not just "my love wolves". Wolves are Rilke. Wolves are Werewolves. Wolves are Maggie Stiefvater. Wolves are mighty, like I wish to be. Wolves are loners...like me. (insert wink) So explaining all that and not feeling like someone peeled back the flesh covering your heart to see your secrets, someone you just met, is the sort of moment you start word fumbling. Be ready with an answer, remember? When you set yourself up in life, whether it be Faith, your style choices, your bracelets, your gauges, your tattoos...be ready for the curious seekers to come knocking.

So wolves... I could spend hours researching the symbolism behind wolves in various cultures, etc., but that would not be why I like wolves. In 2010 (thank you Goodreads for keeping track for quick reference) I read a book by an upcoming author, Maggie Stiefvater, called Shiver. Shiver (spoiler) is about werewolves (queue the "Ohhhh so not wolves, werewolves" reaction). It is one of the most refreshing takes on werewolves I have ever read. The myth is made poetically scientific...believable. Maggie is an enormous source of inspiration to me. In Shiver she name drops often and among the pages of Shiver I met my long since dead lover...Rilke. Are you keeping up here? Wolves -- Maggie Stiefvater -- Rilke -- Inspired. I feel strongly that God blessed Rilke with words and earthly wisdom to write about this "affliction" we call life. I believe God can speak to you through the words of others (hello the Bible). I need to wrap this up because it is far longer than I intended, my apologies.

Rilke's words, with my own interpretation/take, will be among the first to grace this canvas known as my flesh. "So why the wolves?" (insert smile) Here's another reason for the wolves.

Sometimes you let people make their own way in the mystery of why you do what you do too.

Today's Features:

While I love the placement of this tattoo (and the guy of course is not half bad looking), what I love is the meaning behind it. I don't know what his intended meaning of this piece of art ink was, but my mind has already named it 'Oil of my heart'.

There are so many reasons to like this tattoo. Reminiscent of Howard Pyle's pen and ink art style. I am a big believer of the "weight" our hands hold in the decisions we make. Also speaking as someone who has a difficulty forgetting the things that need to be forgotten...this! This tattoo speaks to that dilemma for me.
Any tattoo that tempts me with notions of grandeur in the realm of "Get a tattoo with color...lots and lots of glorious bright colors!" is an awesome tattoo in my book. Plus squids, octopuses, cthulhu, and anything of the Cephalopoda class (and yes I had to look that up) is a safe bet for an eye catching inking.
I won't end with a quote because I have name dropped enough in this post and it is closing time and this has been quite the wordy post. Are you ready?
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Foot-tastic Notes (TOM's One Day Without Shoes Day...Holla!):
  • *1 Peter 3:15
  • Tuned into Mumford & Sons' Pandora today
  • I was reading a portion of my post out loud, as I often do to check grammar, etc., and didn't realize a customer had come in. Insert token embarrassing moment for the day. (insert smile)

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Prompt #1: Location, Location, Location

Here's the challenge details from Qwiklit: click these words for awesomeness Thanks to the good folks at BookRiot I have accepted this challenging starting today! Up, up, and away we go. If you are interested in joining head over to Qwiklit's site and get the words flowing.

Where are you? Your room? A hotel lobby? the top of a burning building? In the finest detail possible, describe everything you possibly can, from the sound to the smell to the temperature. Be extremely specific.
Length: 500 Words

I watch the door for interruptions, welcome and unwelcome; they are interruptions all the same. There is a surrounding silence as I stare at the walls filled with maps and stories of other lands, other times, and other creations. On occasion, while sitting in the rather discomforting “Blue Room”, you hear the laugh tracks from a sitcom playing on the television next door or chance it to be the News droning on about the latest political upset or why health insurance will save my life, while taking me back to the Middle Ages of “Hello I am Maud and I am an indentured slave? Servant?”  I have good ears for the conversations I hear too. If I step into the “Orange and Yellow Back Room” (which you would think “’Orange and Yellow Room’, that’s sure to be bright,” but alas it is rather dark for a room holding portals to every childhood adventure you could imagine) I can hear the old men bent on the business of yarn telling, colorful and amusing language abounding. Charlie’s new tractor, Marv’s thoughts on the President, the mixed up bag of a Midwest farming community are sure to be interesting and enlightening in a conservative radical way. I walk back to the “Blue Room” and find my seat waiting for me with the days packed amusements. The blue and white checkered sofa is nice, in a 1990’s Full House sort of way, but I could have sold it 20 times over in the last four years of peddling the inheritances of generations. Deep breaths as I continue to stare ahead listening to what the masters and novices are telling me. At times the smell is dusty and ancient, but then the next day could be the harsh exciting smell of something new. I gather the words together and let them tell their stories. They have spines that tell me much or nothing at all. Spines that are thick and strong — stronger than what I believe I myself am capable of in this world of words and talking on paper — spines with better names than guts. I eye them and think, “Guts and glory, guts and glory it takes so much effort or so little depending on who you are or where you are in life.” I check the door, 2 rooms from me, another “Yellow Room” and then a “Green Room”, and I will for it to open. I will for it to open so the silence that is these thousands upon thousands of other’s stories might become their stories or their friends. That they might leave a loyal “Thank you come again sort”, hands heavy with their discoveries and pockets lighter for their work or is it my work? It’s difficult to be certain. Perhaps they will grieve me in some way with their words of the world outside of “Progress! Progress!” and I will wonder why they bothered to break the silent meditation I had with the walls and shelves surrounding me in fortress greatness.

No one disrupts the bells by opening my door though, but I can see the steady traffic passing by. Small-town madness, you are always wishing to be discovered, but simultaneously content with the simple solitude it is want to bring your way.

I push myself deeper into the checkered sofa and let the florescent lighting wash me in its flashy, nearly mesmerizing hues of a truly ugly nature. I am tempted to turn off the lights and look at my friends in the shadows, in the eerie reverent way the darkness can sometimes allow. I think better of it. As I want so many in this world to see me for who I am truly, I want to see these pages and pages for their true selves. They are not all great or worthy of the ink that they were impregnated with by a starving artist in the hours of a midnight epiphany or a college student drunk on the narcissistic idea of “I am brilliant so hear me roar.” No. They are great because they are letters and words printed on pages and pages and bound and shelved until a chance interrupter opens my door and finds what they are looking for. Perhaps the shelves will be lined with the spines of their discoveries and experiences tomorrow because they opened my door. My door, with maps and stories of other lands, other times, and other creations lining the walls like so many books on so many shelves.

Leave a comment with a link to your writing "entry" for the prompt today. I would love to read it!

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Tattoo Tuesdays: Crazy Slow and Calmly Fast

Hello and welcome to April! I can't believe, and honestly would rather not put it this way, that we are already 4 months into 2014. Here's to hoping the old adage of "March, in like a lion and out like a lamb" is in full swing this year. As much as I adore winter, my mental state and my body physically could do with high doses of sunshine and morning jogs/walks that my snowy friend, Winter, doesn't play nice with. April means taxes and taxes means crying, sleepless nights, elation, worry, and shopping lists created. Then at the last minute deciding, "I guess I should be more wise and grownup with this list and add pay off this and that...blah, blah, blah." It really is a double-edged, scratch that, Medusa mad situation.

My "shopping list" may or may not have tattoo money listed (insert wink).

I started Qwiklit's 100 Day Writing Challenge today and thus this post will be rather "word dry". A girl can only go to the writer's well so much in one day. I may be posting the Day One challenge on here later, so stay tuned!

Today's Features:

Photography tattoos are always winners! Great placement too.
Typography and music.
There is a lot going on here, but I contend...it is all good. (insert wink) Sleeves!
You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.
~Robin Williams
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