My Ink, My Arse, and Dallas' Art.

    Hello again! I'm noticing a funny pattern that my last four blogs have all been posted in October over the span of three years. I've been taking some time off from writing in my blog. I spent a year writing letters and mailing them to some of the people in my life. This year, money has been tighter and I've been working more on reviving some of my old art while planning future projects, so most of my writings have been private. 

    Today Dallas and I are celebrating our one year anniversary. I am so grateful for the experiences our marriage has brought. I feel unashamed with Dallas, and like I can be every bit the person I want to be. I've heard people joke about marriage and call their spouse a ball and chain, but with Dallas I find freedom. Dallas loves every part of me, and the more I share the more he loves. Judge me all you want, I'm about to say it, no matter how cliché... we bring out the best in each other. Sorry about it.

    As part of our anniversary celebration, Dallas and I have agreed to share a piece of his art that is rather... personal. 

    I have wanted to talk about this tattoo of mine publicly for some time, as I think it is a good conversation about equality in America. When Dallas heard that I wanted to have this conversation, he decided that rather than photographing my tattoo, he wanted to draw it and have me posing with an American flag. Dallas was an eagle scout and understands that letting an American flag become torn and tattered by flying it off the back of a truck is a violation of flag code. Dallas has layers of interest in my tattoo, and his attention to detail in his art reflects that.

    I decided that I wanted a tattoo when I was still just a teenager. I didn't known what I wanted, and I didn't know enough about tattoos to know how or when to avoid cliché, I just knew what I liked from what I had seen. I had enough interest in a tattoo that by the time I turned 18, I had been warned multiple times that ink is permanent, but I insisted that I could handle the responsibility. I had drawn up a couple ideas on cheap printer paper, and turned them into stencils that I held up to my body. I knew I wanted something, I just didn't know what.

    My final decision was to use a stencil I had made of a blue nautical star wrapped in a red and white banner. My tattoo artist created the final design, a stylized interpretation of my stencil with more of the edge that I wanted. When I thought of the design, I thought of where I would be placing the tattoo and how it would fit on my body. My stencil was made for my hip. I would sometimes be around my parents shirtless, since I helped with their lawn maintenance company, and I wanted to keep the tattoo somewhere even they wouldn't see. I may or may not have used it in the past as a chance to flash my ass. It may or may not have worked on Dallas.

    The symbolism of the blue nautical star and red and white banner, reflecting the design of the American flag, was in memory of visiting my father's parents in Grants Pass and attending what I believe was a Memorial Day parade. I couldn't say exactly what day it was, but I remember watching proud floats and marching bands, celebrating the strength and pride of America and the fine people of this nation. My family celebrated the 4th of July like nobody's business, with paper streamers and balloons on our bikes that we rode in local parades. I couldn't tell you any historical dates and most names, but I had a firm grasp on many concepts of America's foundation. These include why America revolted against King Charles, the difference between the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence, what the three branches of government are, the concept that the government was designed to serve the needs of the American people, the spiritual determination that we are all created equal, and the founding idea that a balance of powers between the three branches would prevent America from having a King Charles of our own. 

    Within the year of getting my star and banner, I had moved out of my parents' house and I was taught things about how parts of America actually works. I used to have a strong desire to fulfil my civic duties, and then I learned that as a gay man I could not legally donate my much needed O-negative blood, a law that I also learned is not unique to America and not based in scientific fact. I learned that there are privately owned prisons that American citizens are incarcerated in. My American pride makes me think that we should have quality prisons based on tax payer's money. Criminals should be the prisoner of the people they have committed the offense against, not the prisoner of somebody who makes more profit for each American kept under lock and key. Then I learned that people are taxed differently based on how much money they make, and moreover the people who make the most money are taxed at the lowest percentage. 

    I was heartbroken by what I had learned. I wanted to reclaim my hope and my pride in America, so I added text to my tattoo. "Whatever happened to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." I love the ideas of what America was founded on, but I now recognize that America is not fulfilling these ideals. To be fair, America has never fully kept any of these promises; it was built by slaves and over the homes of a genocided people. This tattoo shows my heartbreak, but it was also made with a vision of a more authentic America.

    I feel grateful that Dallas finds humanitarianism sexy, and I'm proud of his artistic talent. We have dreams of being philanthropists through our art and leaving a positive impact on the world. Dallas has already made a positive impact in my life. I'm excited for our future together, and I'm so pleased to be celebrating our one year anniversary.