artistic endeavor | Grasping the Tale of the Fox

June fifth is National Tattoo Day, and I was asked to write about the tattoo topic. I had previously posted about why I got mine, so I think I’ll cover some other, broader aspects.

Tattoos, of course, have a negative connotation due to various cultures using them to mark criminals, the times criminals (or would-be criminals) marked themselves as a status symbol, and the fact that anything that breaks the norm is usually scorned.

However, in today’s world, the tattoo taboo isn’t as great. Tattoos are actually fairly commonplace, and are seen everywhere. Many women have them on ankles, shoulder blades, or have the infamous lower back “tramp stamp”. Men get them on arms, legs, backs, and chests. But why do they do this?

Well, starting with the criminal element, tattoos can mark loyalties (especially to gangs) and acts committed. I don’t think I need to cover this realm further; I’m sure you get it.

Members of the military have gotten them to show loyalty as well, or pride in their service. Tattoos have also been done to honor fallen comrades. One of the coolest tattoos for military (and sailors in general) is a pair of birds. I believe the birds are swallows. My understanding is that when one is sent overseas, they get one swallow to mark that they arrived safely there, and get the matching piece done when they arrive home. I think it’s an awesome tradition.

Many get representations of loved ones and pets. And some cultures, such as the Samoans, are tattooed as a right of passage.

Of course, a lot of people in the Western World get inked because they’re trying to be cool or present a certain image, but this should not be allowed to take away from the millions of works of art created every day that have legitimate meaning, if only to the person bearing them. And this is indeed an art form. One apprentices before they can get a regular gig as a tattoo artist. They have to earn their dues. And even the finest graphic artists would have a hard time doing what they do via a vibrating needle and oft-times moving, wincing, flinching canvasses.

I realize some may think of me in a certain light because I would have to wear long sleeves and pants to cover all of mine, but every tattoo I’ve gotten had thought put into it and means something to my life. And this is the last reason I’ll give as to why people get work done: For many, including myself, these works of art are landmarks. They signify where we’ve been, what we’ve been through, and where we want to be. The only one that brings me a twinge of regret is my ex-wife’s initial on my shoulder. It happens, but I could always cover it up if I choose to do so.

I hope this was informative. And maybe you’ll get one of your own now if you haven’t already–welcome to the establishment!

One of my writers’ groups had a discussion on poetry last night. This being my field of creativity, I, of course, HAD to go. It was a very lively discussion, too. A lot of the people there said that they used to write poetry, but haven’t in a very long time for various reasons. One person, if I’m remembering this correctly, thanked me for continuing to do so. What I remember clearly was my reply: “I didn’t have a choice!”

This is quite true. My first poem that wasn’t forced out of me by a teacher was written when I was 14. “Dreamdeath” was the title. I had a view of poems as being girly, or pansy-ish, or whatever, and was as such not given to thinking that this was something I would want to do. At least not consciously. I couldn’t say why I wrote that first poem that day except that I was COMPELLED to do it. I still have the fear when I tell someone I write poetry that they’ll apply the stigmas I believed were there when I was 14. I’ll tell people I’m a lyricist, which is true since I do write musical accompaniment to a lot of my pieces, but I think it sounds a little more macho maybe to say lyricist instead of poet.

Regardless of the name one uses for what I do, by 16 or 17, I was churning out poems/lyrics. I did intend them to be used in songs even then, having bought my first bass guitar and amplifier at 16 and figuring I was going to be in the next Motley Crue (he admitted embarrassingly).

My favorite bass player now, Geddy Lee from the band Rush, once said in an interview that to become a better musician, you had to play with musicians better than yourself. It will force you to elevate your skills to their level. I think the same thing works for writing, or it did with me, at least. I started out writing lyrics (very sadly) similar to those of the music I listened to. It was shit.

I eventually got into bands like Rush, Queensryche, Iron Maiden, Sting, and others which have actual, real-live intelligence put into the words. By elevating my lyricists of choice, my own skills elevated. I got pretty good, if I can say so, but then I read something new: John Keats. Kaboom. I progressed by lightyears over where I’d been. I didn’t even read that much of Keats in the grand scheme of things, but it changed what I did. Perhaps it was the phrasing, some use of alliteration, I don’t know. I’m just glad it took hold.

Many, many years later, I still need to do this, my writing. In fact, I think I write my songs so that my words will have a vehicle, rather than writing words because songs need lyrics. I have demons to exorcize, and this is how I do it. I can’t imagine what and where I’d be without this outlet.

I have gotten so much positive feedback from those with whom I’ve shared my writing, which is almost as rewarding as having created the work in the first place. I have heard artists of all types refer to their creations as being like their children, and that they had to “birth” each one. I agree with that. I do see them as like my children, and I’m proud of them. You want them all to be successful in their own right, but of course this just isn’t possible. You still want the best for them, though, and want them to be regarded well.

Regardless of whether or not this makes any sense to you and equally regardless of whether you choose to call what I do lyrics or poems or simply WRITING, it’s something I still HAVE to do. It’s almost as important to my existence as blood, air, and physical sustenance.