The entry below was written by Brenda Forney, an employee of The Arc of Spokane.  Brenda shares her experience helping Penny Cannon, a local artist and client of The Arc's Residential Support program, realize her life-long dream of geting a tattoo.  Thank you, Brenda. 

Penny Cannon flowed into my life like a beautiful tsunami with an infectious smile, a husky giggle and an enthusiastic, "Hi, I'm Penny!"  She took my hand as firmly and confidently as a prosecuting attorney, but had the warm energy of a joyful, old soul.  These were all traits that told me I was, happily, about to be hit hard by this large force of nature cleverly disguised in a petite frame.  Logic dictates that you should run from an oncoming tsunami, but when the wave coming at you is Penny, who can expect you to do anything but stand on the beach with a grin on your face, stretch out your arms and brace for impact?

Once the waters receded, and after I had regained my footing and wrung out my hair, I received another surprise.  The powerful wave that had just knocked me on my back side had also depoited an incredible treasure that was now standing before me.  Penny's vibrant personality outshined any gold, and her animated outlook on life out-sparkled any gem.  When I really got to know Penny, I learned about her massive weight-loss victory and her passion and skills with art.  That treasure had turned out to be a king's ransom! 

During the first of her art shows, which my husband and I attended, we were quickly blown away by the sheer beauty of it all.  Penny’s colorful canvases and prints lined the walls and partitions.  If I knew more about art I might use words to describe her work like impressionistic or abstract, but since the extent of my knowledge falls short of layman, I’m more prone to buy art because it evokes an emotion in me than because it is a good example of an accepted standard.  Penny’s work always falls within my personal standard because it makes me smile, ponder or stare in awe—the same three reactions other admirers carry on their faces when they peruse Penny’s paintings and probably the same emotions people display when they first see the Mona Lisa.

With all of Penny’s accomplishments her family and support team thought it only fitting to surprise her by granting a long-time wish of hers.  They were going to support Penny getting a tattoo for her 50th birthday.  She had been pushing her family for a decade to let her get one.  Year after year she chipped away at their resolve until they finally relented, recognizing that Penny wasn’t going to.  Besides, her 50th birthday was a huge milestone that may not have been reached if she hadn’t worked so hard to lose a hundred pounds and get healthy.  Her medical providers were all consulted and not only did they say that it was fine for Penny to receive a tattoo, they all gave her a big "Woo Hoo!"  It was time to trust Penny when she said that this was what she truly wanted.

Back in 1987, at the age of 23, I collected my first tattoo in order to spread my rebellious wings and have a fond childhood memory immortalized permanently on my body.  I wasn’t in the right mind set then to fully appreciate the inspired talent it took to be a good tattooist, but as the years passed and my stack of happy memories began to teeter precariously from the skyscraping heights it had grown to, I knew the time to transfer a few of them to my skin had finally arrived.

The hunt was on to find the perfect person that would be able to accurately interpret my vision and then place that vision, with inks and needles, onto my ankles with the masterful skill of Da Vinci himself.  Not a tall order in my opinion.

After going through more than twenty five local tattoo artists’ portfolios I came across one woman’s large collection of photos showcasing her gorgeous work.  Her colors and compositions were breathtaking, but what sold me on her was one of two pictures that had her in it.  She had gentle eyes and a genuine smile that gave me the impression she was as down-to-Earth as she was skilled.  Her name was Joy, and she had recently opened Skin Candy Tattoo. A quick call to set up an appointment turned into fifteen minutes of intelligent and animated conversation.  It was then that I knew three things: 1) I had picked the right person, 2) I was now being introduced to another force of nature, and 3) Joy and Penny had to meet.

When I initially saw Joy I instantly grinned—not just from her modern yet unique, hair and clothes, but also because her skin was brightly adorned in ink from neck to finger tips.  Thoughts, dreams, desires and sorrows covered most of her exposed skin in mingling jewel-tones and shades of black.  Like reading her autobiography, I studied her tattoos wrapping around her arms.  Most people may not have felt comfortable doing this, feeling like they are being too visually invasive, but one of the special aspects of the modern tattoo culture is that when the observer appreciates someone else’s ink, they are complimenting the bearer of that ink on a very personal level.

Almost a year later, Joy and I have become good friends, making my first impression of her correct.  Joy is sweet, open, humble and wiser than her years should dictate, but she is also another creative tempest.  Her work is more incredible than I could have hoped to wear, and I constantly feel honored to display it.

When I first approached Joy about Penny, I brought some of her artwork with me. Joy was all for doing Penny’s tat as long as she wanted it and her guardian sanctioned it.  But after studying some of Penny’s art, Joy rethought her initial decision and opted, instead, for more verification that this was actually Penny’s desire, not someone else’s interpretation of her wishes.

Joy’s attitude toward Penny seemed to change, somehow, the more she looked at her printed paintings.  That’s when I understood that Joy didn’t see Penny as just a potential client anymore, but also as a fellow artist and would treat her with that due respect.  With that in mind we set up two appointments.  The first would be just a meet-and-greet so Joy could be satisfied that Penny was absolute in her decision, and at the second she’d actually do the tattoo.

The day of the first appointment Penny, one of her support staff and I had a few minutes before Joy got there, so we spent that time trying to get Penny to pick where and what she wanted inked.  Every time Penny was asked what she wanted, she replied with a different animal, from Mickey Mouse to a zebra.  And every time she was asked where she wanted it placed, she would motion to her entire torso, her full back, each arm and both legs.  Then she would throw her head back and laugh with a gusto that only Penny could summon, and the both of us laughed right alongside her with an intensity that only Penny could induce.

We finally got her to decide on her right upper arm for the placement, but when it came to picking the subject of the tat, all we could get her to narrow it down to was enough animals to fill the San Diego Zoo and every cartoon character Walt Disney has ever created.  We desperately tried to help Penny decide by asking about specific animals she had mentioned more than the others.  Nope. She now wanted some other animal she hadn’t even listed before!  The rest of the time waiting became just a blur of Penny shouting out another creature and the three of us roaring with laughter.

Once Joy arrived the introductions began and the laughter only continued.  For several hours Penny and Joy talked and giggled with each other, sometimes forgetting anyone else was there.  I couldn’t help but smile at the number of times we were forgotten, and then suddenly Penny and Joy would rediscover our presence and look at us like we were three headed aliens that had just landed on their planet ART.

Joy showed Penny all of her equipment and supplies, and Penny listened intently, taking it all in.  Then the big moment of the appointment came when Joy asked her what she wanted as her tattoo.  The other staff member and I held our collective breath.  The list of animals started spilling from Penny’s lips as I grinned and tried to stifle my chuckle. Joy listened until Penny took a breath of her own and then softly said "How about a heart?"

Penny grinned from ear to ear and yelled "looooove it!"

The decision had at last been made!  And it wasn’t even an animal! Before leaving that day, after Joy and Penny had spent some time choosing the stylized heart that would get inked on her upper arm, Joy made a stencil and put a temporary tattoo on Penny so she could walk out of there wearing her future tat. How appropriate that Penny chose a heart for her arm, since she has always worn her heart on her sleeve anyway.

A few days later I called my friend to discuss Penny’s next appointment.  She informed me that she no longer had any reservations that Penny was passionate about her tattoo, and then she thanked me for bringing such an amazing artist into her life.  Joy explained that she looked at her greeting cards and calendar on a daily basis, and every time she did it touched her deeply.  Then she announced to me she wouldn’t take a monetary payment for giving Penny her ink, but she would love to get some of her artwork as trade instead.

When I spoke to Penny’s support staff about this arrangement they were all for it, even though picking one of Penny’s paintings to pay the tattooist was a daunting task.  Then one of the staff came up with the perfect painting to give her.  Penny had only made one painting that contained any words.  It was a gorgeous work consisting of bright greens, yellows and oranges surrounding one word . . . "JOY".

On the big day of Penny’s second appointment, eight of us showed up to Skin Candy Tattoo.  There were mixed emotions before the inking started, from excited anticipation (Penny and me) to nerve-induced nausea (Penny’s sister and guardian).  Penny said she was a "tough cookie" and could handle any pain and was so excited to get started she was positively vibrating.  Well, she was right, she is a tough cookie—as evidenced by the fact that she fell asleep during her tat! I could NEVER do that!

Afterward, I went by Joy’s shop and spoke to her about the whole experience with Penny.  A friend of hers had stopped by to visit, and Joy immediately started telling her all about Penny and showing her the artwork.  I listed to Joy for several minutes describe how remarkable a person and artist Penny was.  Suddenly, I realized she had omitted what I thought was an important piece of information, so I told Joy’s friend that she also had a developmental disability.

Joy threw a loaded look at me that said both, "That’s irrelevant" and "Poor thing; you’re really clueless."  It was then that another tsunami struck me with the force of a hundred epiphanies.  I WAS clueless.  The language of creativity these two masters spoke was one that I could never learn, let alone speak.

I thought Penny being so talented AND having a developmental disability made her a better painter.  With one facial expression Joy communicated to me that Penny’s paintings are what made her an amazing artist, and the unique way that Penny sees the world and expresses it is what made her special—just like Joy, and just like any other great artist.  Like I said, it was a loaded look.

I then understood that in Joy’s eyes Penny’s disabilities was only a drop of inconsequence that fell into her life at birth, but that drop was forgotten once it joined the vast pool that held her artistic and personal abilities.  And I thought I was going to educate Joy.

Now that these two exceptional people have united as friends and colleagues, my role in this is complete.  I know from this point on I will only be a better informed outsider, lucky to have played a small part in seeding the promising clouds that currently form above me.  I look to the horizon with renewed anticipation for those familiar signs of an approaching creative storm.  I’ll dig my heels in the sand, watch the waters ebb, my arms again outstretched, and as their combined wave crashes over me I’ll realize . . . I’m so grateful to be drenched . . . .