If I Got A Tattoo...

It used to be that tattoos were rare.  They were secreted away underneath clothing, and not a soul knew they were there, at least out in public.  Many servicemen got tattoos while overseas, and it was a reminder of a different time, but not much else.  Women with tattoos were considered loose women, so very definitely they were covered up.  Nowadays you are more likely to meet someone with tattoos than without.  Where there used to be a stigma, tattoos are no big deal.

I've always played a "what if" game, thinking about what sorts of tattoos I would get if I wanted.  Tattoos are permanent, for the most part.  I wanted to make sure that I really, really liked the art work before I went to the trouble of paying someone to stab me multiple times with needle ink.  I thought about an ouroboros, the snake eating its tail.   I thought about a picture I saw in one of Elton John's more popular albums from the 1970s.  The daydreams were pleasant, but not much came of them beyond the dreaming.  I'm not the sort of person to just get drunk and end up in a tattoo parlor at two in the morning.  As much of a committment-phobe as I am, I just couldn't see spending the cash.  Well, the needle thing was kind of a deal breaker, too.  Part of my reluctance to get a tattoo in the first place might also stem from not knowing how I will feel after the tattoo is finished.  Buyer's remorse doesn't count after this sort of transaction, and even if you have the receipt, you probably aren't getting a refund.

And then I found this somewhere.  Probably on the internet.  It's a phoenix.  I love the elegant lines, seemingly random.  I identify with the phoenix, a mythical creature who dies, bursts into flames, and rises out of the ashes newborn.  Not that I've died and come back, but I have survived a number of adverse situations. I'm still kicking, even after all this cancer fun.  I just can't seem to decide where I should put this beauty.  On my arm?  My back?  How big or small?  More daydreams for now. I am going to be getting at least two tattoos this year.  After my reconstruction and mastectomy is done, the plastic surgery people will be tattooing nipples on my new breasts.  I will see how I handle getting those.  If I can handle those, this tattoo may be in my future.

Unless something better comes along.

WOE: The Truth in Our Stars

Write On Edge prompt:  this week I challenge you to be inspired by the phoenix. You may choose one of the two definitions below to write about. 
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(source New Oxford American Dictionary online)
phoenix |ˈfēniks|
noun
(in classical mythology) a unique bird that lived for five or six centuries in the Arabian desert, after this time burning itself on a funeral pyre and rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle.
Phoenix |ˈfēniks| Astronomy
a southern constellation (the Phoenix), west of Grus.




There are no such creatures as a Phoenix, the Storytellers say.  There are only Dragons.  In the time after the world's creation, when Men began to walk the Earth, a Dragon found a baby lying naked on the mountainside.  The Dragon took pity upon the cold and hungry child.  She took the child in from the cold, and raised him as her own. He grew up in the warmth of love, safe in the arms of the Dragon. He was observant, and watched how the Dragon would swallow molten rock before flying off to hunt for food.  He watched the Dragon and her clan soar into the air, their scales gleaming in the sunlight.  He heard their cries of joy as the air seemed to lift them higher.   He dreamed of soaring with them, even as he was left to rot in the Great Hall while the dragons hunted.

I want to fly, the Child said.

You are not a Dragon, my child, said the Dragon.  You were created as you are by the Deity, and must be content.  Then she flew off to the east, to bask in the glow of the rising sun.

I want to fly, the Boy said.

You are not a Dragon, my child, said the patient Dragon. You were created as you are by the Deity, and must be content.  Then she flew high, a streak of iridescence in the blue sky.  Each day the Man would ask, and each day the answer was the same.

You were created as you are by the Deity and must be content.  

Yet the Man was not content.  Each day he thought about flying.  He found some of the molten rocks in the cave of the Dragon, and placed them into a pot.  He took the pot with him down the mountain and into the forest.   And now I will fly, the man said.  He picked up a molten rock and swallowed it whole. 

But Man was not meant to swallow fire.  His entire body burst into flame, catching the eye of the Dragon.  She immediately flew to his side, and her tears put out the flames, but it was too late. The Man's ashes  were caught on the breeze and blew away.  Bereft, the Dragon cried for three days and three nights, her heart broken. Her one regret was that she had not taught him to fly. On the third day, she heard a sound and looked into the pot left by the man. 

Lo!  A tiny dragon sat in the bottom of the pot.  The Man had been granted Rebirth by the Deity, and allowed him to be reborn as a Dragon.

Diamante: Phoenix

Diamante poems are poems in the shape of a diamond, and I like to try new things.  What do you think?

Fire

Destructive, Consuming
Distilling, Melting, Melding
From our pain, we peel away what we were

Cleansing, Strengthening, Creating

Forging, Rising;

Rebirth

Source: google.com via Tina on Pinterest