Skin.
Some people think of it as the body's major organ—which it is. Others look at skin as a biological map of the history of early human migration patterns—which it could be.
Many people see it as a canvas to be decorated with tattoos and other markings—to convey group membership, convey beauty, or mark rites of passage.
Contemporary artist Spencer Tunick of Brooklyn, New York, has an unusual take on skin. He sees it as a sea of colors, and thinks of bodies as an organic art form.
Lots of bodies.
Traveling around the world, Tunick has persuaded thousands of people to shed their clothes and pose, often in large groups, for photographs taken in a variety of places, including Times Square in New York; Victoria Bridge in Melbourne, Australia; the desert of Nevada, the floors of museums, on beaches and railroad tracks.
"You get all shades of colors—browns, yellow, tans, many, many pinks—all molded together, forming a sea of color, a kind of visual poetry," said Tunick. "The work is a celebration of public space, and to me, people and bodies are the most beautiful thing that you can put in a landscape, as opposed to objects." (Extract from an old Nat Geo article) Skin as Art and Anthropology
An emotive subject, whether you conside it body art, anthropology or grafitti. It was never a concern for me growing up in a fairly conservative and conventional era, before male piercings became almost notorious. I never gave it much thought. As an ex serviceman I have seen plenty of course and no sailor is ccomplete without at least one piece of drunken artwork to mark his rite of passage.
When I arrived here it became apparent that there had been a cosmopolitan paradigm shift in marking of the human body with ink. Not just men, but women too on a scale I had not witnessed anywhere else on my travels.
The delightful bemusement of the tramp stamp seems amost indiginous to LOS. My first girlfriend here had a buddhist poem or prayer stencilled on he upper back, but she was good in the sack so I paid it no heed. My current long term TGF has no markings at all. Just too squeamish and too low a pain threshold, as my average appendage will testify.
Probably my upbringing and my life experience means I don't bat an eyelid at male tatoos yet still find something unseemly and unladylike about marking a beautiful woman permanently.
What do you think about ink?