And I think of you…

I’m off to an excellent start with doing things that make me feel good. After months of things getting in the way I managed to get a last minute tattoo appointment.

The whole tattoo process makes me feel kinda wonderful. I love the sensation; it’s a nice pain, if there is such a thing. I adore the results even more. My tattoos are mostly words that stir me. The latest addition follows that theme.

e e Cummings tattoo

It’s a little section of e e Cummings’ In The Rain. I’ve wanted these words on my skin for a long time. They’re beautiful and touch many of my sensitive spots. Cummings has always made my heart thump and it’s amazing to carry his genius with me.

I can’t praise True Colour Tattoo enough. It’s such a warm, friendly studio with incredibly talented artists. Chrisse was super lovely and her work is fantastic. Bring tattooed by a woman always improves my experience.

Tattoo in progress at true colour

This is my first colour tattoo. I swithered about it, but green was definitely the right way to go. The tattoo is gorgeous. It’s aided a tiny bit of healing. Oh & it’s helping me tick off one of my 40 before 40. Not bad for a spontaneous Wednesday decision.

New tattoo ly h Kerr

Hit the spot…

February has been a fairly insular month. It’s very cold outside & I’m not much in the mood for socialising. I’ve hit the Netflix & actually chill a little harder than usual. It’s been the month for distractions & these have been the most effective.

I’ll just dive right in with the Netflix shows that have definitely been diverting if not entirely relaxing. Abducted in Plain Sight is insane. It’s documentary covering the abduction of a girl by a family friend. The behaviour of almost every adult in the entire tale is beyond explanation. If the story was fiction it would be dismissed as ridiculous. Also horrific, but in a completely different way is The Bleeding Edge. Another documentary, this one about medical devices & implants that highlights a terrifyingly lax regulation process. Watching this doc probably did not help my insomnia, but it may save me some future medical catastrophe. Last of my Netflix trilogy is also billed is scary. Since I’d never trust a man I’d only known 6 weeks never mind marry one, this one isn’t keeping me up nights. Dirty John is based on the true story of a lying, cheating nutcase. Whilst it’s doing nothing to raise my opinion of the menfolk it is worth a watch. I have been watching one series that does make me feel warm towards humanity, Catastrophe. Everything about it is exceptional; hilarious, real, romantic, tawdry & I liked. The final episode had me in bits, in a good way.

Netflix viewing

An insomniacs best friend is a good book and I’ve been rattling through them in the last few weeks. I opened the month with The Tattooist of Auschwitz which manages to do the almost impossible by making a story about a death camp hopeful. Having said that it’s not very well written & really doesn’t live up to the hype. Giving a book about the holocaust a tepid review feels harsh, but there are better books on this topic. Oyinkan Braithwaite’s take on the serial killer genre was a better choice. My Sister, the Serial Killer is creepy and yet almost playful. You know exactly where the story is headed, but you still want to get there. I’m currently digging back into the Patrick Melrose novels. I re read the first two in the series last year and then got sidetracked. Some Hope is probably my favourite of the five. If you haven’t read these St Aubyn classics, you should.

Patrick Melrose novels & the tattooist if auschwitz

My cute little record player was an excellent purchase. It offers distraction on two fronts, great sounding bath soundtracks & an excuse to go rooting in second hand shops for cool records. The latest of which is The Jesus and Mary Chain. Psycho Candy gets me with it’s relaxed trippiness. It is extra beloved for being on the Lost in Translation soundtrack & just thinking about that last kiss in the street makes me smile.

Books & records

Bronan really likes it too. Every time I put a record on he sits right beside it & purrs like mad.

Cat listening to record playing

Back on the digital side I have had one song in particular on repeat. No Pressure by Mahalia just speaks to me. It’s one of those songs that I just adore the cadence of. I was alerted to it’s greatness via Meghan Tonjes’ insta stories. Meghan herself has also been featuring on my Spotify most played list. Her collaboration with Daren on Count Me Out is a sentiment I can get behind.

Mahalia, no pressure

When I have ventured out it has been to see my glorious little people (& their creators) all of whom breathe colour into my life. My littlest monkey had his first birthday this month. My big nephew is going through an adorable dinosaur phase. Madison’s curls just keep getting cuter & my not so little goddess is texting now. She just loves to send her old auntie freaky gifs.

Not sleeping also gives me endless hours to paint my nails. I hate to have bare nails. These have been my February favs.

ly h Kerr Nail Art

Mixed media & preening aside it’s been an equal split between baths and sunsets. Both bring me comfort and earn a 5 star rating.

Sunsets and thigh tattoo in the bath

I’ll be your clown or your puppet or your April fool…

Last night I asked a women I thought was a waiter for our bill. From the confused look on her face I immediately realised she was not staff. In my embarrassment it occurred to me that my brain (& body) makes daft mistakes like this all the time. Also, ridiculous things just seem to happen to me. I have no idea why I am so bloody silly, but it certainly makes for some entertaining stories. Provided you give me a few years to recover from the humiliation that is.

For starters there was the time I was in hospital and one of junior surgeons who appeared on rounds was a guy I had dated. I didn’t recognise him right away. To be fair I was full of morphine and we’d only gone out for about 2 months 15years previously. Also, at that time he was a bus driver. Thus I didn’t expect to see him amongst my surgeons. Anyway, I was lying there, knickers exposed having my stomach felt when I thought a face in the crowd looked familiar. Skip to him returning to take blood and asking if I was ok with him being on my team. Then me slowly dying as he (re) introduced himself & it dawned on me that this man had seen me naked. Worse still that everyone clearly thought I was the kind of woman who slept with hot drs and then promptly forgot them. I mean, obviously I am precisely such as hussy, but I could have done without a barrow load of medical professionals being privy to that information.

ly h Kerr, hospital

Next was the time I turned up at work wearing odd shoes. They were the same shoe, but in different colours. I had done my standard fling clothes on & rush out the door morning routine. It was a dark winter morning & I didn’t notice I had on one red & one pale nude ballet pump. I didn’t notice all day long either. It wasn’t until I was on the bus home that my mismatching foot wear became apparent. What’s worse is when I asked my colleagues the next day how no one had noticed, it turned out they all had. They just assumed it was fashion choice I had purposely made & left me to it. Which probably sums up how I was viewed in that office fairly well.

There was the time I went on a date with a work mate without realising it was a date, which I suppose could happen to anyone. However, I suspect most folk wouldn’t have gone on the second date still oblivious that they were dating. Or the time I emitted the loudest, foulest fart seconds after concluding some of the hottest sex I’d ever had. Completely ruining my reputation as a sex kitten. I fell asleep during a lecture once and slept talked so loudly the professor thought I was asking a question. Oh & that time I burnt cookies in the Haagen Dazs kitchen, set off the fire alarm and caused an entire 12 screen to be evacuated.

Finally, my crowning glory of embarrassing moments. I was Christmas shopping in a fancy department store (if you’re local, it was Frasers). This place is an old building with a grand staircase which leads down into a beauty hall. They go all out at Xmas. Twinkly lights & decorations galore. This particular year they had a lush potted poinsettia at either side of each step. Step forward a sweaty & harassed me, carrying a million bags. I fainted at the top and rolled down the entire staircase. As I tumbled I knocked over every poinsettia one side, shedding items from bags & red petals as I went. I landed in a soil covered, tight laddering heap in front of the Chanel counter. My knees were grazed, but my pride took the real battering. The lovely staff wanted to fetch me a seat and maybe call an ambulance. I was so mortified that even if i’d broken both legs I’d have been out of there in flash.

House of Fraser Glasgow

There are of course a million other occasions of misspeaking & farting & generally falling around. Laughing uproariously at myself is definitely the only way to go. So, I offer these stories for your enjoyment. If i’m going to me be a clumsy mess I might as well entertain folk.

Yellow light…

Last Saturday I awoke to lovely bright day. I was excited, perhaps winter was coming to an end. I raided my wardrobe for some bright & hopeful clothing. I came up with this yellow  & green combo, which I was loving. However, by the time actually made it out the door the sky had turned grey. Sensing an impending chill I added this lovely new cloakigan.



Skirt – Primark

Top – H&M

Cloakigan – Primark

Scarf -Gift

I also donned my new favourite thing, flatforms. I was rocking these delicious shoes first time around. There is something very pleasing about knowing your 14yr old self would approve of your sartorial decisions. I will absolutely be collecting some more flatforms. I think my next pair need to be higher to get that authentic early 90’s I might break my ankle feel.





Regardless of the weather we managed to have a lovely day. I accompanied my sister to get her new tattoo, which you can admire on her blog, Living in a boxx



I wear it like a tattoo….

Body modifications have always appealed to me. I have only gone so far as piercings & tattoos, but more extreme mods still interest me. I’ve experimented quite a bit with piercings from traditional ears to belly button to finger piercings. I’ve had a fair few rejected piercings, but seem to have finally got the found exactly which types my body will accept. I consider my body art to be a big part of my style. I think they perfectly compliment my quirky tastes.

At the moment I have 13 different piercings & I thought I’d give you a look at the more interesting one. I shall start with my scaffold. I’ve had this one for around 3yrs & I love it now. However, it is definitely not the easiest of my piercings. It is a little painful as its two holes through cartilage, but the main issue is healing time. Mine took a long time, well over a year, to be completely healed. If you’re looking for low maintenance perhaps not the thing for you. It does look pretty striking though.
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Next up, my boob piercing. I tend to be drawn to anything that’s a tad unusual. I don’t want to look just like everyone else, which is probably part of why I indulge in body mods in the first place. This is my favourite piercing. Mainly because I’ve never seen anyone else with one & I am told it’s pretty damn sexy. This is a micro dermal, so it’s semi-permanent. My body is unlikely to tolerate it forever, but they can last for several years. I wear a diamanté and I adore the tiny sparkle when wearing low cut outfits. It adds to funky twist to a little black dress.

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I have another couple of micro dermals sitting just below my collar bone. I had the first done in Brisbane & it was so cute that I decided to have another when I got home. These beauties have kick started the piercing bug again. I expect I will end up with them dotted all over my body. I wear plain silver jewellery in these as I think the simple look is more effective.

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Tattoos are very personal for me. All of my body art means something very particular. As a writer & an avid reader I have always found the written word to be the easiest & best way to express my feelings, therefore my tats are all text. I have another planned & it too will be words in the form of poetry. So far I have five tattoos. I am incredibly happy with all of them.

My first foray into ink was many years ago. I started with the word imagine on my right foot. I am always being told that foot tattoos are really painful, but that hasn’t been my experience. I didn’t find the foot to be significantly more painful than any other part of my body. I started small & classic, which I think was a wise decision. I am obviously a huge Lennon fan, but also fascinated with the power of imagination. I enjoy carrying a little bit of my hero around with me every day. More importantly I have a whisper of my ideals stamped on my body.

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Having dipped my toe into the tattoo world I quickly wanted to immerse myself. I suppose I decided to continue from my feet up, as my next tat was on my left foot. This one was more cathartic as it marks the loss of my baby. I wanted to commemorate my boy without being morbid. I opted for roman numerals of what would have been his date of birth. In the aftermath of my miscarriage I struggled with having very few concrete reminders of my baby. This tattoo helped with the healing process & allowed me to have him visibly with me, always. The art work of this tattoo is again simple, but I find it beautiful.

My next tattoo marks the life of an extraordinary woman. Jo was a very dear friend who tragically took her life. She fought hard against cruel circumstances. No matter how much pain she endured she always brought kindness & warmth to those around her. She saved me & many others; it is an enormous tragedy that we couldn’t do the same for her. Jo was a beautiful person. As a proud New Zealander she would routinely sign off notes & emails with the Maori greeting, arohanui. It means ‘big love’, something she always endeavoured to spread. I wanted a tribute to this remarkable friend & arohanui seemed right. I actually chose characters from a few complimentary fonts & put them together in the hope of making my tattoo unique. Aesthetically I think it works. As an act of love I feel it succeeds too.

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I am keen on an element of balance, so I placed my fourth tattoo on my opposite arm. This piece is inspired by favourite poetry & prose. The fact that this line appeared in two favourite works is a lovely coincidence. It makes the quote doubly dear to me. I studied the cycle of poetry, die schone mullerin by Wilhelm Müller at university and was struck by the beauty of the words. Shortly after my first exposure I discovered ‘the travelling hornplayer’ by Barbara Trapido and revelled in the way she referenced the poetry. This line stood out as it reflected the tone of my own life at that time. It accurately expressed things I had been scrambling to put to into words. The melancholy, romance & hope infused in the words sung to me. I knew I wanted to mark my body with it. To add a piece of me to the design I had the tattoo in my own hand writing. Again hoping that this ensured no one would ever have an identical piece.

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the stars are too high

 

My most recent body art is taken from the bible. An odd choice for a person who rejects organised religion. It’s taken from Isiah, but has no religious connotations for me. My gran was a practising catholic & this quote hung on a plaque by her front door. It’s something I vividly remember from my childhood. These simple words embody so much of what my gran meant to me. They say love, safety & acceptance. They also encapsulate the lasting influence our relationship has had on me.

 

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I will never forget you

I have carved you on the palm of my hand.

 

Sade Like a tattoo