Old ink & moving mountains

In preparation for life in the 30s, I’ve decided to zap off my one and only tattoo. I got it when I was 18 — on a road trip down to LA with 3 other friends. It was my first act of rebellion. The tattoo was of a dove flying over a harp, (I know only a teen would think of that) and it symbolized wanting to be free. My mother always told me if she could be any animal it would be a bird because they could fly away. From a symbolical stand point that is exactly what my life turned in to, a bird flying away while the music plays. (Sounds like a Nelly Furtado song. Oh well.)

But I’m also 26 and if I learned anything from where I was this time last year, it’s that living “young, wild and free” has an exhausting expiration date. Maybe, when I hit my 50’s, I’ll wild out. But in the mean time it’s bye-bye tattoo & old life, you were fun while you lasted but the party came to a stop — and thank God it did.

Upon moving mountains, I find myself in sunny Telluride, CO. I plan to have a post describing this city and what I’ve experienced. In the mean time, I’m learning how to ski.

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