Tattoos and "I Do"s

the possibilities are infinite.



chances are i'll be a tattooed bride.

i have quite a few tattoos, of which, 2 pretty sizable ones show in my superfantastical uber vintage-glam wedding gown. initially, the style of dress i was considering would cover the tattoos, though covering them was coincidence; i happened to be interested in more modest gowns. but as most brides will tell you, what you think you want and what you fall in love with may be from two completely different planets (in some cases that applies to the groom himself).

so i guess i already am a tattooed bride. what i should have said is that chances are tattoos will be on full display at my wedding.

even when i thought my own tattoos would be covered by my then undiscovered wedding dress, i was considering having my brideswomen cover theirs with either their dress styles or tattoo makeup. i think it was partly the assumption that most bridesmaids do cover and partly the knowledge that my mom would prefer it that way. but once i found THE dress and it happened to be one that would show the two prominent tattoos on my upper back (i'm being très vague here, as the fiancé occasionally reads sistergarten and he's not privy to dress information), i had to decide: to cover or not to cover. the more i thought about it (all of this happened in the span of a weekend), the more i began to think about why i was thinking about it at all. covering my tattoos won't make me not tattooed. it will just keep wedding guests from seeing the tattoos. and while that practice may serve a very specific purpose in the workplace, it won't serve me on my wedding day. and while my mother doesn't care for any of my body art, she's very loving and supportive, and i'm sure she'll eventually support my decision to completely be myself on my wedding day. or at least i think she will. maybe. i hope :).

the initial conversation went a little something like this (via text):

me: i'm thinking of not covering my tattoos for the wedding.
mama: what you talkin' 'bout willis?
me: we'll talk tomorrow. get some rest.

she's awesome.

so, i've made the decision that all tattoos great and small will be allowed and welcomed on the bride, brideswomen, and groomsmen alike. for some lovely images of tattooed brides, visit the offbeat bride website.

All it Needed Was Some Mulch...

i have a dirty little secret. actually, to most of my neighbors, it's no secret at all. the fiancé and i have one of the worst lawns on our street. okay, probably THE worst. and our house is positioned near the entrance of the subdivision, between 3 houses beautifully maintained by middle-aged, all-around handy/crafty men who all seem to be at least semi-retired, one of whom we secretly refer to as "world's greatest dad," because when he's not sculpting the front lawn, he's playing softball with his young daughters or volunteering to repaint the sign on the front of the subdivision. all this to say these men and their perfectly manicured lawns make the young unmarried (gasp!) couple look even worse by comparison. i even park my car on the street instead of the driveway in an attempt to hide the pitiful grass and patches of dirt and rocks. it kinda reminds me of a balding man hanging on to a few sprigs of hair in the front.



well, after a much-needed trip home to south carolina for my 10-year high school reunion (double gasp!), a dear friend's graduation, and pre-mother's day quality time, i returned to a totally different lawn! the beloved had cut the grass (a constant struggle with this philadelphia boy), spread grass seeds for the bald spots, and remulched the little flower bed. the azaleas, hostas, and lilies his mother helped me plant last year had bloomed while i was away, and he had added fresh mulch. it looked like a whole new lawn, and most significantly, a whole new garden. before a couple of hours of work, the situation was so bleak i was walking a couple of extra feet to and from my car, parked inconveniently on the street. now i was proud of my pitiful yard's progress.



almost a week later, the oh-so-obvious metaphor dawned on me (you did know this was all leading to a metaphor, right?). the pitiful space didn't need a complete overhaul. it just needed some attention. but somewhere along the way, i had become so hopeless about the outlook that i wasn't even trying anymore. and i had slowly begun to do the same with my career as a writer and performing artist; gradually giving it less and less attention until eventually (without this revelation) i might have ended up so discouraged by the rejection letters and closed doors that i wouldn't try anymore. thankfully, i have been reminded that grass takes time to grow. and it needs water, sun rays, and sometimes seeds (particularly when it's been damaged).



so there's my gardening lesson for the day. remember to tend your garden even if it's the ugliest on the block. or something like that. i should write fortune cookies.



peace, sistergarteners...