As a very young child, I never truly appreciated the summer. Before I started to go to school, summer was merely that period of the year when I'd want to go play at Greg's house because his family was rich enough to have air conditioning. Then, all of a sudden, my entire mindset about summer changed. It was about 10 minutes into my first day of Kindergarten, right around the time Logan finally stopped crying, when I realized that I had underestimated how wonderful summer had been. Somehow, despite this being our very first day of school ever, Logan knew. He knew that the carefree days of summer—the complete absence of structure in most of our lives—were now behind us.
For the next 17 years, summer was a beacon of hope waiting in the distance as I sat inside classroom after classroom. As I lamented beautiful days spent indoors learning about the Berlin Airlift and whatever the heck one can do with Pythagorean theorem (information I clearly did not retain), there was always the knowledge that in a couple of weeks I would have all the freedom in the world.
From September until May, summer came to idealize the life that I wanted to be living. And nothing embodied summer more than the beach. Sand, surf and drinks with umbrellas would be the cure to all my winter doldrums. If only I could get a little taste of that on the days when there was so much snow accumulated that you couldn't tell where the curb ended and the street began.
Now, hear me out, what if I were to tattoo my favorite things about summer onto my skin? Seems like a pretty ingenious way to capture those happy happy joy joy feelings, right? Sure, I may have to peel back a couple of layers of clothing to get a glimpse of my ink, but the brief chill will totally be worth the boost to the psyche.
The people in the gallery below get it, just like Logan did. They found a way to hold on to that summer feeling even as the leaves start to change color. Hats off to you, bold pioneers. Let's revel in summer for as long as we possibly can and enjoy these beach tattoos.