Life is a big tattoo...

Once there was a little girl… She was born fighting against her world, trying to survive the chaos surrounding and so she grew strongly fighting to build up her own world inside the sheltering fences she also built around. But life is like a big tattoo. The drawings you most hardly try to erase are the ones most clear and profoundly underneath your skin. At some point you realize that you’re only scratching the surface and the harder you scratch the more it hurts because it’s your skin you’re trying to strip off. So she settled with the best available option: to drawn on top of the tattoo… and redraw every time the ink started to fade… until she has no more ink left.

Now here she is… a grown-up woman… her tattoo kept on being written and she tenaciously and carefully continued to draw on it… she had suddenly found a supplier with inks of magnificent and never-ending combination of colours… they looked alive, painting by heart as if they knew each part of her tattoo in need of healing redrawing… and, all of the sudden, the ink ran out… but not the tattoo writing. In the flesh she felt each harsh line and pronounced curve, and even most painfully the shadows, all being draw. Who was writing on her flesh had the ability to do it remotely… even if with no intention and unaware of the damage… she found that she and the writer were indeed so merged that she would even cover for him, scratching her own wounded tattoo… Yes, life is just like a tattoo you so much desire to see as a painting… still most often it's inevitably a big, increasing, never-healing scar... and now she knows, as she learned very early: erasing is not possible without skin and flesh hurtful removal…

Jun 5, 2008

To be continued… Mar 19, 2010