I was on my way out last night and went to unlock my bicycle from the parking meter outside my apartment. There was another bicycle locked to the parking meter adjacent to mine and a man fiddling with it's lock. Though his hair was a bit shaggy and his beard was long, it was clear the look was intentional. He wore thick white-framed glasses, fitted dark jeans, a colored shirt and a jacket. As is the custom in San Francisco, I turned and acknowledged him with a smiling "hello". "Hi", he said, "How are you?"
"Fine, thanks."
Then he said, "Can I ask you a question?" which is a rhetorical, relatively pointless question, but effective in getting the attention of someone who isn't expecting a conversation.
"Yes," I said.
"Did you see me in this neighborhood last night?"
"In this neighborhood?," I asked trying to remember if I'd been out in this neighborhood last night, though I was sure I'd never seen him before. "No."
"Thanks," he said, "You see, I've lost my keys, so I'm trying to find people who saw me last night, so i can figure out where I was."
"Sorry," I laughed. "Good luck." I got on my bike and rode away.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing out, because I remember everything. San Francisco is like the 60s. If you remember it, you never lived here. I like to think I just have a different way of experiencing it. But maybe I am too uptight. I was accused once in Marseille of having "un balai dans le cul." In fact, a whole song was written about it on a rare night that I hardly remember.
I've been thinking about a tatoo. I've been admiring tatoos for years. I've been brain storming and sketching what mine would look like for just as long. Here, tatoos are practically a requirement. At times, because I don't have a tatoo, I feel a bit like I've forgotten to put my pants on and realized after I've already left the house. I keep wondering if I would get more work with at least one visible tatoo. However, this societal expectation also makes me proud not to have one yet and gives me strenght to stubornly stick to the viewpoint that I will stay this way.
I'll admit, as I was practicing yoga today, I was thinking about things that were not yoga... Thinking quite a lot about tatoos. I suddenly had this odd feeling that we don't realize the magnitude of the impermanence of our lives. We (I use "we" here because tatoo or no tatoo, I am a victim of the same condition) have beautiful artwork etched in our bodies that we imagine will last forever, not really understanding what Forever means. We also imagine this artwork represents ourselves as we are and always will be, or at least represents a part of ourselves we won't be embarassed to remember when it has changed. There's something in this continual dichotomy between permanence and impermanence that makes me feel the profound smallness of my existance. With this thought in mind, I am still committed to a tatoo-free state.
I do have one scar from an eye-brow piercing in college that will do for now, that I like and embrace because it was accidental... The scar, not the piercing.
I hope I have not discouraged anyone from getting a tatoo. I would love you all to get a tatoo and I will admire yours. You worry about the permanence of your own state if you want and forget all I've said... Or don't worry about it because life will keep happening anyway, making it's mark on our bodies and in our expressions whether we want it to or not.
