Sunday, 17 June 2012

No Regerts?


 None at all?

Tattoos, tattoos, tattoos

Seems everyone has one/wants one/is in the middle of getting one.

But why?

Why are we so obsessed with inking ourselves? With permanently marking our bodies with a painful needle that digs into the skin and traces patterns?

And, more importantly:  

Why do we call this art?

I grew up learning that art is carefully thought out beautiful pieces of work that show emotion, meaning and depth. Not a southern cross stamped on someone’s back.

I’m in no way saying tattoos are bad – if done right. But why is it that we feel the need to mark our skin with words “Family/Mum/Forever/Sisters/Australia/SUCH IS LIFE”? Can we not remember how important these people/things/places are to us unless they are inked?

On another note: people keep going on and on about how these things are going to look when we’re older...but at this rate our entire generation is going to be old, wrinkly and inked. So shut up with the ‘think about what this will look like when you’re 70’, because...YOLO, right?

Anyway, here’s a few regertful tatts (pun intended):


  
So, if you're getting/have a tattoo good for you. I just hope you thought it through.

^^unintentional rhyme

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