It’s the crest for the Vorkosigan family. The Vorkosigans, as you know, are a fictional family from the books of Lois McMaster Bujold. Miles Vorkosigan is the protagonist of many of the books. His relatives are the narrators and protagonists of the rest. And it’s for them that I got this tattoo. I put the Vorkosigan insignia on my leg for Cordelia and her wisdom and honor, and Ekaterin and her deep well of self-knowledge and determination, for Mark and his stubborn refusal to let defeat win, for Aral and his understanding of hard choices. And, I suppose it’s for Miles. Miles Vorkosigan taught me how to grow the fuck up. Better late than never.
The tattoo was my reward to myself for running a mile. And while I was sitting there in the tattooist’s studio, I thought that this was a very apropos reward. Both running a mile and getting a tattoo involve — for me — a triumph of will over inclination. I am inclined to stop running because it is hard; but I don’t. I am inclined to pull my leg away because it hurts; but I don’t. Neither running a mile nor holding still for the needle will actually injure me, and I know this. In fact, doing those things will give me results that I want.
In related news, you can see my calf and shin muscles in that photo! I am pleased with this!
The only complication I can think of with this tattoo is that I expect people will mistake me for Canadian. The maple leaf, you understand.