There was a time when I believed that being afraid meant being weak. After all, every major male influence championed the importance of being fearless, of toughening yourself up for the big bad that is life. Fear was for pussies and a pussy I was not. At least I hoped not.
As I got older, though, I began to recognize the importance of fear. Fear gives us that jolt of electricity, that rush of adrenaline that lets us know we are alive. I realized that there was nothing wrong with being shaken by heights or frightened by spiders. As someone who has always worn his emotions on his sleeve, I decided to do so quite literally. When the opportunity to have an eight-legged freak permanently emblazon my skin, I seized it.
The results were quite awesome, courtesy of the outstanding 717 Tattoo here in central PA.
I take great pride in being able to tell the story behind this piece. It is a source of pride and something I will never be ashamed of.
You know, unless I mistake it for the real thing and shriek like a little girl in a public place.
