I’m making spinach and chive pasta. I’ll top it with raw diced tomatoes; the red and green together look so fresh and natural to me, it makes me feel one with the earth. I’ve also been looking up fabrics to make my own dresses and skirts, and maybe other things, because I can’t bring myself to buy brand names anymore. It isn’t me. And I don’t mean that in a “it isn’t me, it’s just not what I do, that’s not the way I live my life” kind of way. I mean it literally is not me: it doesn’t come from me, it doesn’t fit me. I am my own body and soul, and a brand name can’t fit that. I feel like the only way I can feel completely and totally like myself is to make my own clothing.
The same goes for jewelry: if it’s made by someone I love, with love for me, then of course it’s special. But if it’s lost in a sea of choices on a spinning rack in a department store, it has no love, no emotion. It has marketability, and I’m not interested in putting marketability on my body.
What I am interested in putting on myself is a) a nose ring, which I’m still conflicted about, and b) my triple spiral tattoo.
I say my triple spiral tattoo (as opposed to “a” triple spiral tattoo) because it is already mine. In my head, it is already me. I, like so many other women, am a cycle, a continuum: the maiden-mother-crone concept reflects that in the process of growing and becoming who I am, I am already complete and completely myself. At this point in time, on my skin, I am a maiden, but beneath my surface are a mother and a crone, already in existence, already purposed, just waiting to show me and the world who they are. And when I am a mother, I will still be a maiden; when I am a crone, I will still be a maiden and a mother. I am everything I have been, everything I am, and everything I will be. There is no finish line: the end is death, and no matter what lies beyond it, we can be certain that it is not life as we know it. The goal, then, the purpose of life, is not to die, but to live: and by this thinking I can conclude that the finish line is each and every moment, and that the highest objective is to be exactly what you are and do precisely what you mean to in every aspect of your life.
And, to top it all off, none of this really matters, because you are you and I am me, however you or I decide to live our lives or choose to show our true selves to the world outside.
On the subject of what we show the world of ourselves, the reason I haven’t gotten this tattoo yet is because I don’t know where on my body I want it. My first tattoo, a butterfly I played with, is on my upper back, and I honestly can’t think of another place a tattoo would be appropriate.
Yes, “appropriate” is a loose term, but I want my tattoo in a place I can keep covered if I want, and I don’t want it somewhere where I would be immediately judged (aka my lower back). Hands and arms are out, as is lower back…probably.
As I’m writing this, I realize I can Google the meanings of different tattoo placements and see if anything useful comes up. Searching…searching…
Most results are attempts at wry humor: face tattoos? You must be a gang member. Ankle tattoos? What a little princess. Upper back? Probably some sort of dragon. Lower back? I’ll definitely let you buy me a drink.
What I did find useful was this: someone said, quite directly, that if it is something close to your heart, get it close to your heart (aka your chest, upper side, etc). It’s so beautifully simple and got me thinking. If it symbolizes moving forward, get it on your feet, which move you forward; if it symbolizes moving on, get it on your back, which is always behind you and never gets in your way. Put it close to your brain if you want to think it; put it on your arm if it’s meant to protect you.
Then again, visibility also has to be taken into account. Looks like I have something to think about.
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