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The subject that's been popping up again and again this week has been tattoos. I was at the gym yesterday and a friend of mine heard two rednecks commenting on my back (of which they could see very little). There have been some other things going on with some of my friends that makes me think perhaps some of the old school attitudes about tattoos are creeping back into place...or perhaps I was naive in thinking that they had changed much at all. I don't mind people's natural curiosity about tattoos and I try to be patient with any questions-even though I sometimes get tired of feeling like my body should come with an explanation.
Yesterday, after the rednecks at the gym, the question of the tattoo came up again from a much more liberal friend. He asked why I had ever decided to get tattooed in the first place. What is it, he asked, that made me decide to get my entire back tattooed? Why not something smaller? Why that particular area of my body? I caught myself feeling that slight but familiar irritation that I think most people with tattoos get when someone who's never gotten a tattoo questions us about it. I know that's silly, but I always have to put the thought out of my mind that "unless you have one, you won't understand anyway." Articulating things that are hard to communicate to certain people is important to me, so I have been thinking about this all morning. I really feel like some input would help me sort my own ideas about this out, so please feel free to add your thoughts. I'd love to know how some of you would answer these same questions-whether our feelings are universal or whether everyone has their own very different answers.
The easiest way I can think of to explain my tattoo is that it's my inside on my outside. I wonder if a lot of us tattooed people feel that way. It's a way for me to manifest in the flesh a glimpse of my spirit. So is this a way for me to distinguish myself from other people? Maybe. I think that human beings are always trying to find ways to confirm that they are one of a kind in some way or another. I do believe that we are, indeed, all unique. That's probably why one of my favorite film scenes of all time is the one in the field of daisies from Harold & Maude.
Maude: What kind of flower would you like to be?
Harold: I don't know. One of these, maybe.
Maude: Why do you say that?
Harold: Because they're all alike.
Maude: Oh, but they're NOT! Look. See, some are smaller; some are fatter; some grow to the left, some to the right; some even have lost some petals. All kinds of observable differences! You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are *this*, yet allow themselves to be treated as *that*.
I first saw this scene in 1978 and I never forgot it. I suppose in a lot of ways, my tattooing myself was a way to acknowledge my individuality. Not that I would be any less of an individual without it; it is simply the way I choose to express certain things that I know about myself. It marks the journey that my life has been in many ways; it is a symbol of both my weakness and my strength. Why not something smaller? My answer to that is because my journey has not been small. It has been epic and extraordinary to me. My grandmother used to laughingly call me the little warrior when I was young. I was always fighting for something or someone. So I've had my battles, no less or more spectacular than those of anyone else in many ways; but what I felt I had to acknowledge within myself wouldn't quite fit into a little piece of flash on my ankle. It's not so much an artificial scar of any kind as it is the icon of a journey that has been marked with both good and bad, but one always determined by my own nature. It is a map of my own convictions and passions. In many ways, it is the physical reminder of a final and lasting truce with myself--a promise of self-respect and my endeavoring to live a truthful life.
Why my back? That's a more practical issue in some ways. Because of the kind of work I do, sleeves were not an option. I wear skirts often enough where anything on my legs wouldn't work. My own particular taste as applies to my body was to have everything clean (free of any work) except for my back. Maybe it's the shock value of it that I like, aesthetically speaking. I like the idea that most people who don't know me would not ever guess that I had a tattoo at all, much less the one I have. I like that someone who sees me from a certain angle, depending on what I choose to show, will probably have to reevaluate their initial impression of me. I like the sort of yin-yang aspect that being tattooed in this way gives my front side and backside.
Being tattooed does set me apart from a lot of groups of people. It excludes me from certain social circles, just as it establishes my kinship with others. I don't know that I'm comfortable with that aspect of it, but since I can control access to who views my body work, it's probably less of an issue for me than for others.
There's probably a lot more that I haven't thought of, but I'm sure reading what other people have to say about all this will give me all sorts of insight that I didn't have before. I'd love to hear how any of you would answer these same questions.
Yesterday, after the rednecks at the gym, the question of the tattoo came up again from a much more liberal friend. He asked why I had ever decided to get tattooed in the first place. What is it, he asked, that made me decide to get my entire back tattooed? Why not something smaller? Why that particular area of my body? I caught myself feeling that slight but familiar irritation that I think most people with tattoos get when someone who's never gotten a tattoo questions us about it. I know that's silly, but I always have to put the thought out of my mind that "unless you have one, you won't understand anyway." Articulating things that are hard to communicate to certain people is important to me, so I have been thinking about this all morning. I really feel like some input would help me sort my own ideas about this out, so please feel free to add your thoughts. I'd love to know how some of you would answer these same questions-whether our feelings are universal or whether everyone has their own very different answers.
The easiest way I can think of to explain my tattoo is that it's my inside on my outside. I wonder if a lot of us tattooed people feel that way. It's a way for me to manifest in the flesh a glimpse of my spirit. So is this a way for me to distinguish myself from other people? Maybe. I think that human beings are always trying to find ways to confirm that they are one of a kind in some way or another. I do believe that we are, indeed, all unique. That's probably why one of my favorite film scenes of all time is the one in the field of daisies from Harold & Maude.
Maude: What kind of flower would you like to be?
Harold: I don't know. One of these, maybe.
Maude: Why do you say that?
Harold: Because they're all alike.
Maude: Oh, but they're NOT! Look. See, some are smaller; some are fatter; some grow to the left, some to the right; some even have lost some petals. All kinds of observable differences! You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are *this*, yet allow themselves to be treated as *that*.
I first saw this scene in 1978 and I never forgot it. I suppose in a lot of ways, my tattooing myself was a way to acknowledge my individuality. Not that I would be any less of an individual without it; it is simply the way I choose to express certain things that I know about myself. It marks the journey that my life has been in many ways; it is a symbol of both my weakness and my strength. Why not something smaller? My answer to that is because my journey has not been small. It has been epic and extraordinary to me. My grandmother used to laughingly call me the little warrior when I was young. I was always fighting for something or someone. So I've had my battles, no less or more spectacular than those of anyone else in many ways; but what I felt I had to acknowledge within myself wouldn't quite fit into a little piece of flash on my ankle. It's not so much an artificial scar of any kind as it is the icon of a journey that has been marked with both good and bad, but one always determined by my own nature. It is a map of my own convictions and passions. In many ways, it is the physical reminder of a final and lasting truce with myself--a promise of self-respect and my endeavoring to live a truthful life.
Why my back? That's a more practical issue in some ways. Because of the kind of work I do, sleeves were not an option. I wear skirts often enough where anything on my legs wouldn't work. My own particular taste as applies to my body was to have everything clean (free of any work) except for my back. Maybe it's the shock value of it that I like, aesthetically speaking. I like the idea that most people who don't know me would not ever guess that I had a tattoo at all, much less the one I have. I like that someone who sees me from a certain angle, depending on what I choose to show, will probably have to reevaluate their initial impression of me. I like the sort of yin-yang aspect that being tattooed in this way gives my front side and backside.
Being tattooed does set me apart from a lot of groups of people. It excludes me from certain social circles, just as it establishes my kinship with others. I don't know that I'm comfortable with that aspect of it, but since I can control access to who views my body work, it's probably less of an issue for me than for others.
There's probably a lot more that I haven't thought of, but I'm sure reading what other people have to say about all this will give me all sorts of insight that I didn't have before. I'd love to hear how any of you would answer these same questions.