Nine Little Foot Tattoos and a Prayer for Peace

It is embarrassing to admit, I don't remember the name of today's contributor.

Normally, regular readers may know, I'm a bit more diligent about contributors to the site, but in this case, Z, as I will refer to her, gave me her card, which included her email address and website (she's an artist that works mostly in oils), and I subsequently put it somewhere safe. So safe, I forgot where.

In other words, I lost it.

But let's talk about how I met Z and came to know her tattoos.

Fate spilled me out on the 36th Street platform in Brooklyn. An express train (N) came before the local, so I hopped on, with the intention of riding to 59th, one stop away, and then grabbing an R train.

Standing on the N, I looked down and saw a tattooed foot. Not your normal tattooed foot, with a rosary (like this one), or flowers, or whatnot, but a foot with tattooed marks on it. Just the right foot. The left foot was bare, although there were symbols circumnavigating the calf, just above the ankle.

As luck would have it (Luck loves Tattoosday), Z exited the train at 59th Street and I started talking to her on the platform.

We both caught the R and talked tattoos all the way to 95th Street. Upstairs, at street level, I snapped some photos.

This is her foot:


Up close, one can see that the marks are ants.

Z grew up in New Orleans and always remembers the big, black ants that scurried about.

One day, she was bored, and drew some ants on her foot with a Sharpie. She went several days with her foot be-speckled by these ants, and they grew on her. She wandered into Cherry Bomb Tattoo in Brooklyn, and had them permanently tattooed.

There are nine ants in all.

The following tattoo is above her left ankle:


The Tibetan prayer is "om mani padme hum". She told me that this is the prayer for universal peace.

Thanks to Z for sharing her tattoos with us here on Tattoosday!

UPDATE: It took a while, but our paths crossed again, on July 2, 2010, I was hanging outside of the laundromat near home when I saw a woman with black spots on her foot crossing the street across the avenue from me. When I saw the ring of Tibetan around her left ankle, I knew it was the same person. I scurried across the street and re-introduced myself. The subject formerly known as "Z" is actually named Jeanette, and I was finally able to update this post, with her proper name attached.

Lizz's Tattoo Anchors Her to Her Brother

One of the things that I love most about writing Tattoosday is the way New York City plays a significant role in the narrative. It may not be a blog about New York, but it would be a much different one without this city I call my home.

This is one of those posts that is tied to the fabric of New York.

This evening, I was taking advantage of a free ticket to see a revival of Guys and Dolls at the Nederlander Theater, which is still in preview and opens March 1st.

I was standing in line outside, about twenty minutes before curtains. The theater, on the south side of West 41st Street, faces the back of the New Amsterdam Theater to the north.

There were assorted people milling about across the street, folks I assumed were crew from Mary Poppins, outside having their last cigarettes before their show started.

I spotted a woman who had exited the theater and saw, from across the street, that she had a tattoo on her right forearm. I was doing nothing but standing in line anyway, so I crossed over 41st Street to say hello.

Lizz, who works as a dresser, was more than happy to share her tattoo:


What's remarkable about this traditional-style anchor tattoo is that she had it done at the same time, on the same spot, and with the same design as her younger brother.

For Lizz, this was her most recent, her nineteenth tattoo. For her brother, five years her junior, it was his first.

The piece is based on the state flag of Rhode Island, where Lizz grew up:


Tattoos in general have significant meaning for their bearers. When the same design in shared, and the act of being tattooed is similarly experienced, the emotional charge instilled in the work is compounded.

Another example of siblings sharing a tattoo can be seen here.

Lizz told me that she doesn't rely on one artist, but that her ink has come from different shops all over the country.

This tattoo was created at Cherry Bomb Tattoo (now known as East River Tattoo)in Brooklyn by the artist Duke Riley. Work from Cherry Bomb has appeared here previously.

Thanks so much to Lizz for sharing her ink with us here on Tattoosday!