Page 1113 - Wordsmith A Guide to College Writing

always been that of an alluring place of unpredictable peril.
Superstitions brace that world with clear-cut rules, the sense of order

humans crave. On levels macro and micro, we are always looking to

ascertain cause and effect. We string lines of meaning across space

where none is inherent so that we can rest our heads there without

fear. From territories geographic and emotional that we cannot control

or predict, we make provinces for rules we cannot test, because any
illusion of predictability makes us feel safe. The realm of human

relationships is like the ocean. It is governed by the mercurial feelings

and decisions of people who are not us—our enigmatic husbands and

girlfriends—and by earthly chance we cannot control. My grandmother

was a firm believer that you should hold your breath when you pass a

cemetery. That pregnant women should not attend funerals. That
sweeping under the bed of a sick person will cause him to die, and

leaving a hat on a bed courts the Dark Angel, too. I could not argue

with her on these points, and frankly, some part of me was always too

chicken. One cannot decisively prove that it is not bad luck to tattoo

your skin with the direct image and name of a living person; you can
only point to all the bad things that have befallen those who have.

Death is about as biddable as the ocean or the whims of other people.

Sarah Peacock has inked the sepia image of a four-year-old child 26

onto a bereaved mother’s back. She has inked the word “cholo” in Old
English script into the chests of members of Latino gangs. She has

tattooed dark teardrops inches from the eyes of young men. Tears are

common prison tattoos, traditionally meaning that the bearer has killed

someone. That meaning has expanded to signify mourning as well.

She has tattooed the images of pet Chihuahuas and husbands, of