Awkward Turtles and Romps
I’ve been contemplating getting a
tattoo, for a long time now. I should
have been inked, around the time of my
birthday (May 3, to be precise)
but somehow, it just never materialized
as slated. Okay, I didn’t end up
getting it, because I was with a group
of friends, gallivanting the streets
of Johannesburg, like tipsy-still-thirty
gypsies. Literally, we were nomads.
but i won’t elaborate on that too much,
since this piece is about ‘my tattoo’,
not about the alibis and setbacks. I
remember the reaction I received, when
i reminded everyone that one of the
stops (of the many) needed to be made
that day, should have been at the
parlour; i could sense the disgruntlement,
although I do also understand that we
were under immense pressure, to
find accommodation and settle in, having
been on the road, literally, since
the night before.
I relented on the immediate need, and
decided (promised myself) that I could
just get it another time, and that it
really wasn’t such a huge kettle of fish.
But albeit giving up, I remained aware
of the rather irking fact that, I was not
always apt to save money, and that I
would most likely be able to do my tattoo
six times over, with all the money I
received, sporadically during the year, but
still wouldn’t end up inked, because of
the former fact, of my disposition to
spend, foolhardily.
The 2012 year is about to end, and
something I’ve wanted since the fall of the
previous year, might just remain a want
until the break of the new year.
I don’t want that to happen. I am going
to try with every corpuscle of
my being, to make this little dream
become a reality before i carry, what should
be considered: ‘an expired dream’, into
a year I’ve set aside for the
creation, development and emergence, of
so many other ambitions, goals, etc.
For those who don’t know, the tattoo
that I’ve been yearning to get on
my skin is; the outline (in bold and
black, not beautiful lines) of a tattoo,
with it’s stout legs pushed out at its
sides. The lack of detail has everything to
do with my simplicity, and also the
symbolism of it;
the
outer lines depict the shadow of the turtle
the
boldness of the lines symbolise the texture (in a sense), lending
to
the idea of strength (in relation to the turtle’s shell)-à the hard shell,
signifies
the face of exterior strength, and also the length and breath of
the
protection we assimilate, as defenses and to keep out what we
don’t
welcome in. The line is like a wall, in other words, except that
we
don’t live within the construct, we are it, and the walls are
bold
and thick, emphasising that we have strong bodies and spirits, but
mostly
that we are unimpressionable and our mental state is able
to
perservere influence.
The turlte became sort of an influential
‘figure of fauna’ to me, around the
time i started enjoying my trips down
marijuana avenue, with my crazy antics,
illusions and artistic paraphernalia
like, viz. my poetry pads, pens, notebooks, and
imagined realities.
The turtle was then used, to let one
another know, if the other was already high. In that way,
we would all be cognisant of the state
we were in. That was it, really. However, turtles had
long since stood out for me, because of
how dissimilar they are to other animals, and how
their speed is criticised. I believe
that, it was this criticism which somehow made me privy, of the
entitlement assumed, destructive
criticism given, and the judgements handed out by humans, extending the
criticism, control over, and judgement of other human beings to animals, in a
global and evolving world. The turtle is almost like me, though I am anything
but slow; I tend to slow down, casually, to peruse what’s happening around me,
and I might even take a while to get going again. I’m comfortable in my shell-
my outer experience, and it’s of great importance to me, because not only does
it encase my organs, but it’s a point by which I am perceived, socially.
Irrespective of whether such a perception affects me or not, my physical
appearance matters to me, not only for partial veneration and admiration from
others, but it’s also something I can contain and construct my qualia (innate
reality); my mental world is concealed, and kept private through my outer
frame. Exactly, the way turtles are concealed within their shells.
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| Example of Turtle Outline for tattoo |
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| Picture from my birthday weekend, with Azizza and Chanelle |
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