El tatuaje.

Yep. That means, "tattoo" in English.

I've known since I was a teen that I was going to get a tattoo(s) and that it was just a matter of time. My eighteenth birthday came and went. And between then I just never felt morally compelled to get anything specific. I knew I would eventually though. Well, two weeks ago, I couldn't stand it any longer and went and made an appointment at Pupa Tattoo and Art Gallery.


The artist was incredible. Her station was covered in framed paintings and pen drawings of her own. She rocked my socks. The most triumphant part was making the meeting and discussing what I wanted and planning it all in Spanish. I felt very bilingual in that moment.

Since I got to Spain, I had a feeling I'd get a tattoo in Spanish and knew it would probably be something from my favorite Spanish playwright and poet, Federico García Lorca. He lived in the early 1900s in Spain and was a contemporary to Salvador Dalí and other famous Surrealists. I've seen a play of his in Spanish and am about to see another. I have some of his poetry books and they are incredible. He was killed at the start of the Spanish Civil War, for being very liberal and perhaps also for his quiet homosexuality.


He wrote a book of poetry when he was living in New York for two years called "Poeta en Nueva York." There is a poem in it called, "Panorama ciego de Nueva York," which more or less translates to the "Panoramic view of the blind man in New York." I chose a small part of it for my tattoo which says: Yo muchas veces me he perdido para buscar la quemadura que mantiene despiertas las cosas. Translating (more or less) to, "I oftentimes lose myself to find the burning that awakens all things." That particular poem is very meaningful to me, and that part blows me away every time I read it.

So last Friday, I got up bright and early, accompanied by Brandon (for weak moral support) and headed to the parlor. Here I am rocking the stencil and verifying (for the 8 millionth time) that it is, in fact, grammatically correct.


The process began! And as Brandon said, "I didn't know a fish was getting tattooed."


Almost done with a very inky and sightly bloody arm. If you're wondering why hand is extended, it's because it was numb from resting in that position for so long. I was surprised by how little it hurt. But I think I built myself up for it and psyched myself out.


And all done! I am so happy with it and ecstatic to have something to remind me of this incredible experience in Spain forever.