Tuesday, June 19, 2012

tattoos.



The ones I love are nearly always birds. Freedom and independence, it would seem, are things that I need to be reminded of regularly, prone as I am to forgetting that they're mine. The ones I love are nearly always painterly, works of art on a living canvas. Muted colours, but not afraid. Sometimes I just fall for a reminder, or a record of a life lived.   A print of Jen Bandini's collarbones lives above my sofa, it's probably my most prized piece of art, it catches my breath every day. 

About once a day I think about tattoos, about where I would put what and how I won't because I don't want one badly enough to deal with the prospects of infinite choice, commitment and paying people to hurt me, but how I love the beautiful ones and what an amazing thing it would be to carry around a piece of art that is mine and mine alone.