chicken foot

welp, i did it. i knew i wanted it, i psyched myself up for it, i found the right shop and i went in for my first tattoo.

grendel at elemental ink put a chicken (eleanor from the banner of this blog, actually) on the top of my right foot.

it hurt. and then it was all done. and i loved it. and then i hated it. and now, well, it's there and the shoes i wear definitely influence how much i love it that day ;) and now i'm thinking of what is next. i was warned about this.

why a chicken? you ask. good question. obviously, i love chickens. also, though, urban homesteading (chickens and veggie gardens in the middle of a metropolitan city) is the definite thing that jonathan and i share together in our marriage. we both brought gifts and talents and passions and interests to this relationship. but the love of self-sufficiency, care for our spot (and other creatures') in the food chain, and creative home-keeping and homemaking were discoveries made only in the existence of our marriage. my chicken foot, then, is an homage, no matter how silly some may think, to my lover and to our marriage and to our home.

that, and i really, really like chickens.

additionally, jonathan's use of his hands, his skill at problem-solving and making-from-scratch, his ability to make his ideas into actual, physical realities, are knacks i do not possess and which i find incredibly sexy. our homesteading--our chickens--has given me, also, a niche in that arena of artistry and craft, an outlet for expression of creativity i had forgotten i possessed.

so she's there. forever. just like jonathan. 'til death do us part.

p.s. i'll try and find a better photo someday soon.