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I am a 45 year old Queer woman who has been tattooing intermittently for over 25 years. I had 3 tiny "girly" tattoos from my late teens and early 20's, but thought I was a big pussy, cuz, damn!! That shit hurt! Ha-ha! At 42, after having gone through some huge changes in my life I felt the need to begin chronicling my life and spirit in a way that had meaning to me, and began my quest for meaningful and beautiful body art. I suppose with age and illness my pain tolerance has changed. I mean, tattoos hurt. ha-ha. But not really....and they're soooo worth it.
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My tattoos are each (so far) of spiritual and emotional significance to me. Although beauty and design and color are important, meaning is paramount. Each piece is a story. This was my first "real" tattoo. It is a memorial piece to the only man I've ever loved, my late husband Jerry lee Hartjoy, 1952-1998. The heart is wrapped loosely in barbed wire for protection, yet winged with the hope of flight. Sacred, of course, as was our love, and as it will always be to me. I still carry a torch for you, baby!
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