permanent art

As the days go by, I become more and more fascinated with the idea of expression. There are so many different platforms to say what you feel and to communicate with an audience. My most recent obsession has been something a little more final, something that can’t be easily reversed – tattoos.

This is coming from someone who has not a single body piercing and has a severe dislike for needles.

When I think of tattoos, I am floored by the idea itself. Each tattoo has a story, whether it derives from a strong meaning or a drunken night at a bar, and it is a choice. When getting a tattoo, you are deciding to put something – art – onto your body. It could be a tiny lotus flower on your pinky or an entire arm sleeve of delicate roses.

There’s no room for careless errors or do-overs. With a canvas or a photo, you can edit or start over and work as you please. With this level of artistry, you have a real life subject and each and every line you make is virtually permanent.

If people approached more things in life as if they were tattoos, how different would things be?

If a word you uttered to someone you hated was plastered onto your forehead, how would you feel if it never went away? If you said a phrase out of frustration and anger, and you could never take it back or let it go, would you be as careless to have said it in the first place?

If you had the ability to treat life as you would a tattoo, how many more chances would you take? Stories you would relish in? People you would connect with and cherish rather than fighting with and loving?

Why does it have to be painted over your body in order for it to matter so much? Why can’t that same approach apply to more instances?

It’s an idea that I have been thinking more and more about lately. As I approach high school graduation, and age for that matter, simple acts turn into deeper meanings. Even the smallest of tattoos are still worth forever, so why treat anything else differently?

 

 

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