I got about 4 hrs of sleep going into yesterday and wound up going to sleep at about 9:30 (way earlier than my typical bedtime)
I don't remember alot of the dream (where have we heard a comment like that before) But I remember waking up on a cot or table and talking to some guy. Then I heard some buzzing and realized he was tattooing me. He was very elusive if I was right about this or not. And I was supposed to be getting ready for a wedding. It was either mine or one I was officiating. I'd found a pair of hideously orange socks to wear but they had a lot of holes in them even though they'd be covered by my slacks.
I remember something about dropping off a scroll or food and balancing on a catwalk in front of the building trying to balance it and prevent the building from leaning over.
But back to the tattooing. I finally made him show me. He took me over to a mirror. He'd put a unicursal hexagram on each shoulder blade. Except the second one was very badly drawn.
Then it got worse. It would seem I woke up (in the dream) close to the end of this process. He'd already completed the work on my neck and head. On the left and right side of my neck were simple symbols. When I looked at one the word Futhark came to mind. Someone had shaved my head except for a small yomikah of hair which felt like it had been removed and replaced like a hair piece with glue. Down the back of my head and neck there was a tattoo that seemed more like artwork done half in green and half in red magic marker. It was a wide mesh pattern that looked like one of those medieval chainmail coifs. But just down the back where my hair used to be.
Now the strange part is that I have a sense of touch in dreams. (I thought this wasn't supposed to be possible) I could feel a lack of balance from the building I was at, I could feel the tattoo work being done on my shoulder (I think, as I've never received one in this lifetime) and I distinctly remember feeling the hairpiece edge and feeling it move on my head. I remember that feeling the most and remember waking up to a feeling of, "Ooh, just a dream, thank the gods." Humourously, in the dream, I'd gotten the tattoos because one of my friends (my lead eng at the office, who I do consider a friend) had given me some herbs to make me pass out.
Afterwards he just smiled and said, "don't worry, you can get them removed." Then I looked at the table and Marcellus Wallace looked up at me and said, "but you really don't want to take those two off your neck."
In my life and church I am surrounded in people with tattoos, piercings, what have you. I am now in my mid to late 30s and still have 0. Zero piercings and zero tattoos. I don't know if it's how I was brought up or maybe some subconscious desire to stay tied to the traditions of my lack of religious upbringing. It's not even resistance that I have towards the concept. Well, maybe there is resistance towards piercing... I figure I have enough holes in my body and they all seem to serve a purpose. But the body art thing. That's where I get weird. I don't even like to get pen on me. I feel strangely dirty when I get pen, ink, paint, or something similar on me. In theatre, I'm okay with makeup, except lipstick. I don't like gloss, chapstick, or the like on my lips. For some reason I'm fine with eyeliner pencil.
But with tattoos the issue isn't the cleanliness with me. It's the concept of putting a mark on your body. I've asked people why they get them and it's often because the symbol represents something important to them. My concern is what happens when I find the symbol is no longer relevant or the one I chose doesn't go deep enough to symbolize what I want and is now inaccurate. This of course falls into the realm of over thinking it. ;) I did meet one woman who responded, "Why? Oh, because I'm into the pain" Which as a painphobe doesn't really make me brim at the thought.
I have given the idea a lot of thought. I commented on it a little over 2 years ago. But so far it falls into the realm of, "I haven't found the right image that means the right things to me, to make it a permanent part of my human shell until I die." Granted, I came out about being a heterosexual when I decided that, "If I could find the right guy, I'd be bi, but so far no guy has really ever moved me that way."
I have no problem with body art or sexuality decisions of anyone else. I just feel strange sometimes that as open minded as I am for everyone else, it just doesn't work for me. I feel like there's some subconscious or unconscious limiting force that produces excuses for me to not just open up and do certain things. Which considering I just went thru a big Saturn ritual at the temple might be something for me to think about.
As always, comments are welcomed... but since I haven't made a grand pronouncement about the state of lunch meats, I fear the comment number will be fairly low. ;)