Lizz's Tattoo Anchors Her to Her Brother

One of the things that I love most about writing Tattoosday is the way New York City plays a significant role in the narrative. It may not be a blog about New York, but it would be a much different one without this city I call my home.

This is one of those posts that is tied to the fabric of New York.

This evening, I was taking advantage of a free ticket to see a revival of Guys and Dolls at the Nederlander Theater, which is still in preview and opens March 1st.

I was standing in line outside, about twenty minutes before curtains. The theater, on the south side of West 41st Street, faces the back of the New Amsterdam Theater to the north.

There were assorted people milling about across the street, folks I assumed were crew from Mary Poppins, outside having their last cigarettes before their show started.

I spotted a woman who had exited the theater and saw, from across the street, that she had a tattoo on her right forearm. I was doing nothing but standing in line anyway, so I crossed over 41st Street to say hello.

Lizz, who works as a dresser, was more than happy to share her tattoo:


What's remarkable about this traditional-style anchor tattoo is that she had it done at the same time, on the same spot, and with the same design as her younger brother.

For Lizz, this was her most recent, her nineteenth tattoo. For her brother, five years her junior, it was his first.

The piece is based on the state flag of Rhode Island, where Lizz grew up:


Tattoos in general have significant meaning for their bearers. When the same design in shared, and the act of being tattooed is similarly experienced, the emotional charge instilled in the work is compounded.

Another example of siblings sharing a tattoo can be seen here.

Lizz told me that she doesn't rely on one artist, but that her ink has come from different shops all over the country.

This tattoo was created at Cherry Bomb Tattoo (now known as East River Tattoo)in Brooklyn by the artist Duke Riley. Work from Cherry Bomb has appeared here previously.

Thanks so much to Lizz for sharing her ink with us here on Tattoosday!

Spit On a Stranger

Ever since I started blogging tattoos, I like to carry a folder with printouts and my camera with me, wherever I go.

So on Wednesday night, when I realized I had until midnight to return a video to Blockbuster (Rescue Me, Season 2, Discs 1-3, all unwatched) or face stiff penalties, I dragged my stuff with me, just in case. At that time of night (11:30 PM), I figured opportunities would be slim to none.

Let me clarify, I saw some cool tattoos, but figured it would not necessarily be the best idea to ask bar patrons out of the blue on the street to participate.

Anyway, video returned, happy with just a shot of a new look from The Loneliest Lamp Post in Bay Ridge, I walked past, near the stroke of midnight, a harmless looking gentleman unchaining his bicycle . At first glance, he looked like he had a bicycle tattoo on his right forearm.

Not quite. Instead he had this:


Well, obviously, he agreed to participate in Tattoosday. So, what is this?

Well, the host, named Matt, offered up the following explanation (loosely paraphrased here). The tattoos is based on the cover art for Spit on a Stranger, a 1999 EP by the indie rock band Pavement. Take a look:


Matt is a resident of Williamsburg, but works in Bay Ridge. In retrospect I marvel at his midnight bike commute, although I hope he just rides to the nearest train station. Matt's tattoo was adapted from the Pavement EP, which was one of the band's final records. He says he gets a lot of comments and questions about it, and that people interpret it differently, yet all seem to be in the right ballpark when coming to their own understanding of it. Matt studied political philosophy in school and appreciates the vagueness of the piece, and the fact that it is able to be so widely interpreted by others.

This work was inked at Cherry Bomb Tattoo in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

Thanks to Matt for talking to me and letting me take a picture so late in the evening.