Yesterday while we were meandering around the beach I spotted, out of the corner of my eye, a tiny white feather floating along the top of the sand. Instantly I scooped it up and grinned from ear to ear as I twirled it between my index finger and thumb. My loved ones in heaven, my guardian angels, were with me and sending a happy hello.
I quickly motioned Carl over to me and asked that he take this picture so that I could remember my latest feather encounter (please ignore my chipped/disgusting nails. I promise they're far more 'lady like' today) If you've followed along in my tattoo journey you'll already know the significance of a white feather and my reasoning behind choosing this as my tattoo (if not, don't worry. You can catch up by reading my two previous posts, White Ink and White Ink...Take 2). But it wasn't until late last night, while uploading the pictures from yesterdays beach adventure, that I realized I STILL hadn't posted about the finalized version of my tattoo. Sorry folks, I'll admit I'm a slacker. I had fully intended to compose this post weeks ago, but milestones in my life and other arrangements meant that it took a back seat. Last night as I stared at this picture (which I haven't fiddled with in the slightest - Jackie this is what it looks like in the flesh) I admired it's subtle beauty and simplicity. I love the flow and lack of perfect symmetry, I love the elegance it has and how it reminds me of a beautifully formed scar. This kind of tattoo, or any tattoo for that matter, won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it's exactly what I wanted and I'm in love.
After 2 touch ups, and 5 months of healing I am over the moon that it is completely healed. I can now enjoy it, in all of it's understated glory, every single day of my life. I'm so glad I finally took the plunge and did it. I could not be happier with the result.
Thanks for reading, love bugs! Enjoy the rest of your Monday!
Lots of love, love, love