The good folks at Retrospect are asking about tattoos and piercings – those permanent (well, mostly permanent) ways we adorn our bodies. Now, as a former dedicated follower of the “body-as-a-temple” school of thought (courtesy of Catholicism, bless their metaphorical heart), I found myself firmly in the pew, not the piercing table. But hey, no judgment! To each their own, right?
Traditionally, tattoos and piercings were like badges of honor – a warrior’s battle scars etched in ink, a pharaoh’s bejeweled reminder of their divine status. Fast forward a few millennia, and these practices have become a global phenomenon. Walk down any street and you’ll see everything from delicate butterfly wings fluttering on shoulders to full-blown sleeves that could rival the Sistine Chapel in detail. (Though, with fewer cherubs, hopefully.)
Now, don’t get me wrong, the artistry and creativity behind some tattoos is often undeniable. They can be stunning testaments to personal journeys, artistic expression, or just a really deep love for their pet goldfish, Bubbles. But for me, the “temple” analogy resonates. My body is a gift from the Big Gal/Big Guy upstairs, and while I’m all for a little self-expression (hello Hawaiian summer shirts) something about permanently altering it gives me pause – a long pause – a life long pause so far. It’s like writing on a priceless manuscript – sure, you can personalize it, but it kinda takes away from the original work, you know?
Think of it this way: if your body is a temple, wouldn’t you decorate the walls with beautiful paintings you can swap out every now and then? Plus, with this temporary art, you can have a different masterpiece every week! One day you’re sporting a Shakespeare quote, the next you’re rocking a portrait of your cat dressed as Napoleon. The possibilities are endless (and commitment-free!).
So, there you have it. I choose to express myself through the written word and the occasional statement sneakers. But hey, if rocking a full-body sleeve of your favorite video game characters makes you feel like a total badass, more power to you! After all, in the grand scheme of things, whether you’re a canvas of ink or a walking advertisement for sensible footwear, we’re all unique works of art – temporary or otherwise.
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Kevin Driscoll(Mostly) Vegetarian, Politically Progressive, Daily Runner, Spiritual, Helpful, Friendly, Kind, Warm Hearted and Forgiving. Resident of Braintree MA.
Your essay is a great reason to become a fan of temporary tattoos. The local Henna Hut on the beach does a great business, and it doesn’t last forever. More room for error without the permanent ink (especially when you evolve, the love of your life is no longer the love etc etc etc). Hawaiian shirts sound like a great option too.
I very much like the idea of Hawaiian shirts … aloha.
As always you add humor to your take on the topic Kevin.
It’s the permanence of body ink I wonder about, but as I don’t want anyone telling me what I can do with my own body, dare I judge what others do with theirs!
That makes sense
Not having been raised Catholic or Jewish (I was raised communist, no body temples for them, but I don’t know all that many tattooed communists, either), I don’t share the body-as-temple thing, but I have shirked away from the younger generation’s enthusiasm for permanent body markings. My fears are simple: what if I got bored with whatever image, words, or symbol I had etched on my arms and legs? I get bored with myself enough without etching an obscure Japanese character for “ikigai” (one idea I had) or a ship’s anchor. I keep myself open to my own suggestion for just the right symbol or word, but so far, my skin is pristine, except for the scars and wrinkles.
That’s a remarkable graphic you chose, Kevin. What’s the origin?
I like the idea that scars are life’s tattoos – I do have some of those.
Your humor helps to make several very valuable and thought provoking points. This was fun to read, but it also made me stop and think, and rethink, a couple times. What more could I hope?
Nice – thanks.