Like most babies, Yarrow seems to prefer to play with toys that aren’t really toys. She’ll spend half her day pulling jewelry out of my green bowl, or examining make-up jars one by one; she loves pieces of paper and the camera case. Some of her favorite things to examine are her parent’s tattoos. Last week I added a new one to Yarrow’s collection of black and white images. She spent the time in the tattoo parlor laughing at her reflection and reaching out to trace the bright pages on the wall. At home, she traces the lines on my hand and grins, turning it over to look for more, like a book, her favorite book - full of the images of love.
My husband and I designed this tattoo with Yarrow in mind. It makes use of an older one, one that claims Beauty will save the world, the new work wraps ‘round in, climbing up on my hand in joyful curls. Fluttering on the edges are three black crows, tradition birds of luck and happiness. The three that foretold the birth of a daughter. I saw so many crows before Yarrow’s birth, grouped in threes and sevens, or paired off. If the tales are true my daughter has a happy life ahead of her - wrapped up in blessings before I saw her, now with world of new life to enjoy.