Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I was a mother of two grown up children when I decided to have some tattoos.I used to think that they belonged to the world of sailors with the "I love you Mum" on their arms. I became a sort Benjamin Bottoms and I move away in a time machine, when going to a tattoo parlour was acceptable. I thought my body was a canvas and I wanted to express myself in it. I did it and covered my back with snakes, names in Sanskrit of a holly monk’s death a long time ago in Myanmar and I felt happy and whole. I wrote my feelings on myself. I was my own book. It was a revelation and I had such a sense of freedom. My daughter three days ago, a very conservative young woman had a tattoo on her neck. I smiled. She wrote the first page of her book.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.