In October, I went back to the orthopedist, first time since 2014 — this time for my right knee, which bothered some, mainly when going downstairs. He referred me for physical therapy, as I hoped he would, and I went once a week for six weeks. Since then I have continued doing exercises at home.
Once I was at the therapist’s, I looked around for a skeleton, which had been sitting in a chair in a corner before. I thought now, I could finally get a picture, so took along my camera. However, a therapist had taken the skeleton home to hang in his basement while he restored its joints a bit with glorified twist-’ems, and when it was ready to move, he decided to place it in a local tattoo parlor. He was familiar with the owner and others there, so he figured it would be in good company.
Actually, he had considered selling the skeleton, but he knew that in its previous life, it had been a University of Rochester professor, perhaps a doctor in the affiliated hospital. Knowing that stopped him.
Obviously, to get a photo, I’d have to go to the tattoo place. It’s upstairs quite a flight, which my knee noticed when I was going back down. I did get pictures, but have to go back again to find someone actually tattooing, as well as to meet the receptionist, the owner’s wife. I shot only photos of people with tattoos, including a man whose face, head and ears were covered. Then I took a photo of a young woman while she was drawing a potential tattoo. Her own neck and arms were covered with tattoos.
It seems that artists who can’t make it as professionals often turn to tattooing and people’s bodies become their canvases. Joe, the owner of this tattoo place, keeps photos of his masterpieces.
In the photo shop where I go, they said one of their customers has his face and head covered with tattoos: “He’s a nice-looking guy and pleasant, but the tattoos on his face are a little disconcerting when talking with him.”
Now I am really looking forward to a three-day convention of tattooists in Rochester in March. Meanwhile, I will continue to “get” any tattoos with my camera.
Happy Holidays and Blessings on Thee, Everyone.
Byrna Porter Weir was born and grew up in Houlton, where her parents, Ina and Porter, were portrait photographers. She now lives in Rochester, N.Y.
