Samantha Sullivan gave me these two tattoos today. 

Wild daisies have been my favorite flower since I was a little girl. My grandmother’s hill was covered with them in the spring. For me they symbolize innocence, simplicity, joy, and wild beauty that often goes unnoticed and undervalued. There is something pure and fresh and free about daisies. I was once like that. Untamed. Before I became domesticated. Before I got cynical. Before I forgot how to play. This skoolie, this lifestyle is my way of creating a time and a space for her to blossom again, like daisies in the spring. 

The polar bear has followed me my whole life. In 1954, my uncle was stationed on Baffin Island where he paid $35 for a polar bear skin to send to my mother. She – I always thought of the bear as female although all I am sure of is an age of two or three – was killed the month I was born. Growing up she was a rug on our living room floor. It did not seem disrespectful at the time. I would pet her and talk to her. On that course off-white fur I napped, read books and talked on the phone that was attached to the wall by a cord. I felt she was there to protect me, even after she was put in a box in the basement. When I learned about totem animals and spirit guides, I realized polar bear was one of mine. Several years ago, she came to be with me, next to my altar. Right now I’m not more sure of her future or mine. The tattoo is to remind me of polar bear’s gifts: strength, courage, fierceness, playfulness, a need for quiet solitude, and the ability to survival in harsh environments. This adventure is happening only because I was able to overcome many difficulties, both real and perceived. I trust polar bear will help me navigate my way to a rebirth and transformation before walking me to the spirit world.  

I have a few more tattoos in mind, but I won’t be getting them until I forget that I have a low threshold for pain.