Tattered Canvases (Nate Collins)

By November 15, 2017 Uncategorized No Comments

The blazing sun greeted another sweltering, Florida day. My hair was plastered against my perspiring head, so I desperately stumbled towards the local water park. As I entered the sopping oasis, an overwhelming sea of tattoos greeted my sweat-stung eyes, and thus, I realized the suprising fact that I was in fact unique. As a simple blank canvas of skin, I stood out from the masses of tattooed individuals.

Was this good or bad? It was neither. However,​ ​as​ ​opposed​ ​to​ ​years​ ​past, when​ ​a​ ​tattoo was a taboo that ​set​ ​someone​ ​apart,​​ ​ nowadays tattoos seem to synthesize​ ​individuals​ ​into​ ​one ever-growing, ​human​ collective—those​ ​​marked​ ​for​ ​life.​ ​In this club, individuals almost haphazardly ​plaster​ ​their​ ​bodies​ ​with​ ​cliché​s,​ ​spiritual​ ​proverbs,​ ​and​ ​other​ sayings​, from the profound to the meaningless.​ ​And yet, why do we do ​this?​ ​What​ ​drives​ ​us​ ​as​ ​humans​ ​to​ ​alter​ ​or “enhance”​ ​our​ ​original​ ​form?​ ​Is​ ​it​ ​desperation,​ ​rebellion,​ ​stupidity,​ ​or​ ​maybe​ ​even​ ​hope, creativity,​ ​and​ ​adoration?​ On the other hand, what if​ ​our​ ​insatiable​ ​desire​ ​to​ ​improve—and in many cases, to ink—​ourselves, ​stems​ ​from​ ​an irritating​ ​forgetfulness—an amnesia of sorts?​ ​

We​ seem to have the hardest time ​getting​ one simple, albeit exceedingly profound, reality ​into​ ​our​ ​heads:  ​someone infinitely​ ​special​ ​loves​ ​us. We​ desperately ​try​ ​to​ ​fix and craft more pleasing versions of​ ​ourselves with constant hopes of being ​loved. With this in mind, ​I​ ​cannot ​help​ ​but​ ​wonder​ ​if​ ​the best ​​tattoo​ ​is​ ​one​ ​that​ ​overrides​ ​our ​constant amnesia​ ​and​ ​reminds​ ​us day in and day out of the ever-present reality that we​ are loved by God and thus quite truly ​marked​ ​for​ ​life,​​ despite being nothing but a simple, ​tattered​ ​canvas.​

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