Inkbursts: Spring Awakening

So I'm digging these inkbursts for now. This is the third in the series, each piece composed on the New York City subways.

On Thursday it was 60 degrees in the Big Apple and, I read somewhere that this has been the fourth warmest winter on record. You wouldn't know that from the paucity of posts these last few months, but that doesn't mean I haven't been busy.

We had a bat mitzvah to throw in February, and I have been working behind the scenes recruiting contributors for our upcoming fourth annual Tattooed Poets Project in April. To which I can exclaim, "More poets! More tattoos! More FUN!"

I used to feel guilty about letting a day go by post-less. I pictured inked fans worldwide waking up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, only to be gravely disheartened by yet another day gone by without a new Tattoosday post. No more. This blog is neither the center of my universe, nor a viable way to help support a family of four. I have come to terms with that.

But, with spring rapidly approaching and blog traffic at an all-time high (50,000+ visits per month in January and February!), I am in high spirits and am hoping to do a lot of great things with Tattoosday in the months to come. Thank you for checking in and checking us out!

Inkbursts: I See Your Tattoo but I Won't Ask You About It

I take pride in the fact that I can sit on a train and spot tattoos.

I'm not talking about the obvious, but the subtle.

Remember, I have been inkspotting for over four and a half years (!). I am adept ar detecting scribbles on feet, a word on an inner wrist, and the edges of sleeves peeking out from under sleeves.

Does this help me? Rarely. My general rule is, if I can't identify it, I won't ask someone about it.

Imagine, someone walking up to you and asking to see more of your barely visible ink. It reeks of creepiness, a characteristic I so desperately want to avoid, as it is well-documented that the world is full of people who do not respect tattooed people's boundaries, and often demand to see someone's tattoos, as if it is their right.

But, I digress.

This all started because I spotted an interesting shape on a guy's inner left wrist on the R train this morning. I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn't.

It was way too early for that.

Inkburst: Commenting on Tattoosday

I am writing this post on the subway, on my Samsung Galaxy S II's Blogger app, in what I will call an "Inkburst." That is, a small, mini-post, that I hope people find interesting.

Readers may notice that there aren't a lot of comments on this site. I have a filter set up that requires my approval before a comment sees the light of Tattoosday.

I tend to approve benign and positive statements, and reject ads, spam and, more controversially, negative remarks.

Why won't I allow negative feedback? I think it's counter-productive and it goes against the grain of this site's philosophy - meeting and appreciating tattoos.

So, when a recent reader named "Anonymous" dropped comments blasting two posts, they didn't make the cut. And, I agreed with his or her opinion about one of the posts!

But this site is not always about museum-quality body art. Sometimes, bad, or merely average ink is interesting, too. If you want nothing but high end work, I recommend Tattoo Snob.

The way I see it, if I hand a flyer to someone on the streets of Manhattan, and they're on the fence about contributing, they'll be less likely to participate if they think there's a chance of getting flamed by a inktroll.

I do occasionally let a constructive comment through, however, if I feel it is relevant to a piece's flaws, and it is written objectively, and not soaked in sanctimonious venom.

Feel free, however, to praise away! And thank you again for visiting us here at Tattoosday!