Written on the Body - ed. Jane Caplan
I've been getting all these new tattoos lately, and wanting more and more.
("is it the pain or the art?" dad asks.
"bit of both." and then the whole healing process - the crustacean ink, the itch.)
the tattoo is "an indelible insertion that is both visible and out of reach... an exchange between interiority and exeriority, 'a paradoxical double skin...'" (xiii)
infidel(ities):
You shall not gash yourselves in mourning for the dead: you shall not tattoo yourselves." (Leviticus)
much in the first few chapters about the etymology of the tattoo - the (disputed?) relation between 'stigmata' and what we think: ink.
stigma.
brian summed up (a part of it) well : tattoos are so temporary. disregard all the warning speak of permanence. these drawings die with me (except for: see Roald Dahl: Skin). unlike the paintings (crap paintings) that go nowhere except for into corners, the boxes of photos, of letters and books and books and books of drawings. art on the body to do nothing with but burn when body burns.
1 comment:
what does it mean?
your post reminded me of a dream i had last summer after i got my back tattoo. i looked in the mirror and my whole chest from the neck down was solid black ink--like someone had tattooed a tshirt on me. And i panicked for like half a second (because who wants that tattoo?), then all of a sudden i was overcome with calmness, almost like a mischievous sense of accomplishment --even though the tattoo was dumb and i had no idea how or why i had it--because it occurred to me that there was nothing to be done, that it was part of me now and i had better love it. i felt like i had somehow tricked myself into accepting all mistakes or ugliness and there was no sense in thinking about them anymore.
p.s. i miss you and hope i get to see you this round of holidays, or i might just have to trek out for a visit. xo
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