Month: <span>March 2009</span>

Slowly he breaks down, carefully deconstructed. The sum of these parts he is not, nor is he whole without them. He is apart and  incomplete, still searching for something unknown and out of reach. He is content and sated for now, happy with what he has, disillusionment hovering out of sight.

Childlike he studies each piece, wonder creases his face as he tumbles the shapes between his fingers, marvelling at curves and crevices, skin catching on ripped edges. Gently he places them back down, carefully, orderly and correct.

Each piece tells a story, some laugh merrily, others are inconsolable behind heaves and sobs. Some shriek and wail, others tra-la-la to an unknown tune with a familiar chorus. Some lie dormant as their time has passed, yet their role does not diminish. The naked structure gapes and glares, absorbing them all.

The pieces shimmer and shake, languid in their motion, certain in their reason, and knowing they too will return to their rightful place. None will be left behind, none will float away on the tide of change, they will be reborne and reconsidered, polished and primed.

His thoughts turn elsewhere, the light bends, dazzling and brilliant, and the newest pieces of him are borne, joining the other pieces before him, sliding into  place as if they’ve been there all along. Happy and content he can rebuild.

He turns his thoughts to the task at hand and the air crackles as the energy builds. One by one, the pieces start their journey, each is paused for a second, a final inspection, a last glimpse of the separation and purpose, before once again being consumed. The structure slowly fills, orderly and considered, the new jostling with the old.

Some time later he sits on the bed. Quietly contemplative of himself. Each part of him nestles in place, content and happy, complete.

There is no undo button in life. In a way that is a very good thing because the one constant about life is that “it goes on”. And it does. And it always will.

On the other hand it would be nice to be able to undo now and then. Not everyday, I don’t mean when you’ve spilled coffee down your shirt, or want to undo the eating of that double chocolate muffin, but it would be great if you had a few “life undo” tokens available, wouldn’t it?

So let’s say you have one a month. You can only use one per month, you can’t use two then go without the next month, and if you don’t use it, you lose it.

That said, what would I undo? There are some, seemingly, obvious examples which on further inspection would quickly be changed. After all, this is not a magic fix, it is simply an undo and, to drag out another cliche, “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger”.

So perhaps that is why life doesn’t have an undo, because, quite simply, you don’t need one. Do you?

You may, or may not, have heard the phrase ‘Tipping Point’ used to signify “the moment when something previously unique becomes common“. Made popular, although not created by, Malcolm Gladwell, it can be applied most recently to the explosion of people using Twitter, and previously to such web applications/social networking websites, as Facebook.

Which, rather nicely (gee, it’s almost like I planned it!) brings me to my topic. Namely, Facebook and is it starting to tip away from ‘common’ towards something else.

I’m not quite sure where Facebook is tipping towards but there does seem to be the beginnings of a swell, a murmuring of discontent as Facebook continues to grow and tries to adapt itself accordingly. Basically, on a more and more frequent basis, Facebook seems to be starting to irk some people.

In that respect, it’s very much like the noise that preceded it’s massive growth but on the opposite side of the slope, the word of mouth is heading towards negative territory. Anyone else think so? Just me?

Work

The slow drag of the needle across skin is a primitive sort of pain, one you can relax into, one which ebbs and flows as nerves are uncovered, one you can surf through highs and lows.

My first two tattoos, as I’ve mentioned already, were not borne from any particular event nor as part of a fad or fashion. I got them to challenge perceptions of who I am and, to this day, I still have a fascination with them.

The act of having ink etched into your skin, creating a permanent piece of art is at once terrifying yet utterly intoxicating. It’s hard to explain to people but a worthwhile conversation to have for the reaction you get when you mention them is hugely interesting.

Many people have tattoos for fashion. They don’t necessarily belong to any tribe or group, they have been through no rite of passage, nor are they declaring devotion to a higher power. And that’s fine. I don’t fully understand the reasoning but such is life.

Would I have gotten a tattoo (or two) had it not started to become fashionable? Probably not, but I did consider WHY I was getting one for, let’s be honest, I’m no fashion icon.

Recently I’ve talked of getting a third tattoo. But why?

Well, life continues to change me and as I retain my tendency to question everything I find myself understanding my self more completely than before. Despite the cliche, life really is a journey and every step is teaching me something new. I embrace my own foibles, my own construction more and more, and find myself making excuses for that less and less. I’ve still got a lot of questions but the realisation that I can finally see ME does, I think, require some mark in the sand.

Enter the tattoo.

The word “and” is very powerful, I use it a lot in discussions with other people both as a way to drag out more information, to coax and tempt them into saying something else, and to punctuate any statements. It may sound arrogant or self-servcing, and I don’t always vocalise these thoughts (or indeed the conversations as they are often between me, myself and I), but that word has stood me in good stead these past few years.

I find myself drawn to that position now, the ‘so what?’ and ‘what else?’ of life. I squiggle ampersands in the margins. &

So, I’m thinking something like this:

Once again pondering Tattoo, might have a final choice? Hmmmmm on TwitPic

Personal Musings