by Johanne James
Have you noticed over the past few years how tattoos have proliferated? It’s like an explosion of color and design, some beautiful works of art. The body has now become a blank canvas for the artist to work his or her masterpiece. I remember when tattoos were a taboo and only worn by merchant seamen or those who inhabited the criminal underworld. My guess is now that you’d be hard pushed to find anyone that didn’t have some kind of artwork plastered somewhere on their person? Has it became an addiction that we must now cover every inch of skin in ink, or to release those endorphins that keep us going back for more when those tiny little needles pierce our flesh. I don’t like needles as it is, and yes you can call me a coward, but I’d rather wear my tattoos on the inside. Beware that you don’t get something you may not like in years to came that you ask yourself, what on earth did I do that for? Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time! Wouldn’t it be criminal to discover that one of these works of art were to be stolen, only to be hung in some private gallery somewhere? Ha ha ha ha. Best you beware of what you have painted on yourself as you may end up becoming, priceless! And stuffed!
Peace my friends.