THE DEAD STILL GET THE LAST WORD

I wanted to squeeze in one more article associated with Day of the Dead, and no, I’m not going to give you another history lesson. What interests me is how different Latino cultures celebrate and how families develop their own traditions and practices for remembering the people they’ve lost. Some are elaborate, others more personal, and no two-family celebrations have to look alike. There’s no single instruction manual sitting on everybody’s kitchen counter.

Here’s a perfect example, and yeah, I took this pic. Take a look at the character in his colorful striped outfit, standing over a collection of photographs and keepsakes. I don’t know the family stories behind those pictures, but somebody took the time to put this display together, and I’d love to know what each item represents. That’s the part of these celebrations that interests me. A stranger sees a skeleton and a collection of objects. The people who assembled them may see an entire family history.

Day of the Dead celebrations have their roots in Mexico, but remembrance practices vary across Latino communities and individual families. Some gather around photographs, prepare favorite foods, decorate memorial spaces, or spend time remembering relatives through stories. Others have their own customs that have been passed down through generations. I could do a whole series documenting this subject.

My attraction the fact that families can honor the people they loved without every celebration having to look exactly alike.

Tattooing fits into that conversation. Day of the Dead tattoos, and portraits of loved ones can carry meanings far more personal than the designs themselves suggest. If you’re considering a Day of the Dead tattoo or a personal memorial piece, Inker gives you a place to discover tattoo artists and explore their work. Family photographs, familiar faces, and meaningful symbols deserve an artist who understands what you’re asking them to create. The design may be permanent, but getting it right starts with choosing the person holding the tattoo machine.

As stated above, I don’t know who’s in those photographs, but I wish I did. I’d love to hear the stories behind them, especially the ones that would have everybody laughing at the dinner table. You know, the stories that get told every year, even though everybody already knows how they end. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of those people are still getting blamed for shit they did thirty years ago. I like that. You can be gone from this world and still have your family talking about the trouble you caused.

J Gekko
Staff Writer, Inker