wednesday, 18 february 2009 first tattoo
it was his first tattoo. his girlfriend sat by for support. he didn't flinch. i'm happy not to be a man who feels he shouldn't flinch when in pain. scratch that--if i were a man, i'd still flinch. it doesn't really matter that i can't remember his name, he simply represents the excitement, nerves and awkward energy you feel when you get your first tattoo.
we pick up marks as we move through life. some are imposed by others: our names. some are imposed by fate, some by ourselves. each tells a story, serves to remind us of our circumstances, our desires, our visions of ourselves, our accomplishments, our struggles, and sometimes our accidents, as in the case of scars. sometimes we bare our scars as badges of courage. maybe something appears to have been an accident, but for whatever reason, we put ourselves in the position to carry that scar away, and we are reminded of it. so, lucho, to you, i say: life's short, don't worry too much about the permanence of ink versus our fickle natures. you make a decision to ski down that hill, you live with the scar. you make the decision to get inked and you will definitely change from the person who sat and cringed in pain, but no matter the transformation, there will be a part of your skin not shed that is elementally you. as it should be. tattoo.