Get a Frog Tattoo and Carry On
One year ago, I got my second tattoo: a frog carrying a battle axe. I picked him out of a page of flash designs by Nate at Tattoo Paradise. I wanted it because it’s a little silly, and I want to be a little silly, a little irreverent. Tattoos do not need to be the most beautiful, meaningful, deeply symbolic things. A rogue amphibian threatening violence against trees or dragons or something else—I haven’t decided what to put on the other leg, yet—is a totally valid choice.
Then again… it’s hard to look at this frog every day for a year and not be inspired by him. Shoot, there goes my thesis. I named him Percy, and, like the Mars rover, it’s short for perseverance.
Percy is working hard right now.
Every day since the election has been a fight to keep moving. The news is absurd. The future is uncertain. The fears are practical and existential. My impact is limited. I’m just a frog, what am I doing with a battle axe, and why won’t anyone tell me where I’m going next?
During the tattoo appointment, I tried to explain to the artist why I chose this design. I like that the frog is in motion. He’s not just running. It’s stronger than that. So there I was: word nerd, lying on my back, full of mid-ink adrenaline, trying to define tromp to several tattoo artists on a quiet Wednesday evening. The frog tromps. He’s tromping. My face was cold, and I was trying to emphasize the vowel, because, you know.
Well, I wanted silly, and I got it.
If it’s a struggle to move gracefully right now, tromping is fine. We’re treading heavily, marching around disrespectfully, toward tomorrow.
I managed to avoid most pre-election podcasting, but I can’t look away from post-election analysis. The impulse is the same—I want someone to tell me the future, which isn’t great and won’t happen. But I liked this essay and interview from Ezra Klein that provided some recent-historical context. It made me realize that I’ve grown up in nothing but “Obama-era” politics. I’ve never seen a major shift (that is, a “realignment”) before, so the possibility feels especially scary. That makes sense.
For a less wonky, more personal reaction, I highly recommend this video from Leena Norms about coming to terms not only with the election results, but with a world where bad men win. There’s poetry, and insightful storytelling. If you’re trying to figure out what to do next, she says, start with whatever you were going to do anyway.
Personally, I will continue writing my novel. It feels urgent now. I also want to factor donations into my 2025 budget. Let me know if you can recommend any particularly effective organizations.
Time in nature is also great. The ducks know nothing about politics.
Cloudy morning, November 10, 2024, at Greenbelt Lake.